


Bury the Lead

by marywhale



Series: Author's Favourites [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Gen, M/M, Slow Burn, Still Faerun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-02-08 16:38:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 108,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12868647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marywhale/pseuds/marywhale
Summary: Taako’s senior year at Neverwinter High could be going better. Faced with a choice between joining the school’s floundering newspaper or being expelled, he opts for a career in journalism.Lucretia, the paper’s editor, kind of wishes he'd gone the other way.





	1. Above the Fold

**Author's Note:**

> The long teased high school AU has arrived! A big, big thank you to weatheredlaw for beta-ing this beast for me.
> 
> I'll be updating the fic twice a week on a Tuesday/Thursday schedule. I sincerely hope y'all enjoy it! Please leave comments or kudos if you do.

_ Above the fold: The most important stories of the day appear on the top half of the cover—above the fold—where they can show in coin boxes or on stacks.  _

*

Taako’s problem is that he has no respect for authority. Also, he doesn’t follow instructions well, isn’t respectful of others’ time, doesn’t participate in class in a meaningful and healthy way, and once broke a window using magic to cheat in gym—a class which he’s currently failing, mostly because Taako hates team sports and the coach holds a grudge over the window/cheating debacle. Gym isn’t the only class Taako has problems in, but it _is_ the only class where he’s prepared to admit he’s the root of those problems.

Honestly? Fuck home ec.

“Fuck home ec” is a sentiment his aunt would be surprised to hear from him, but she’d never experienced the absolute joke that is Neverwinter High’s Home Economics II: Cooking and Baking. Taako signed up expecting to dominate. He and Lup were raised by the best cook in all of Faerun. Maybe Auntie didn’t have a bakery or a restaurant or fancy cooking awards, but Taako has yet to meet anyone who can come close to roasting a turkey as well as she could. Auntie taught Taako and Lup everything she knew, and if she were still alive today she’d stand in solidarity with Taako. She’d see the great injustice at work here.

Auntie isn’t alive, though, and there isn’t anyone else around to vouch for his side of the story who’s in a position to be listened to.

It’s a good thing Taako’s never had trouble sticking up for himself.

The door to the principal’s office swings open and Taako schools his face, masking the annoyance he feels with cool indifference. Taako is above being sent to the office by a two-bit hack who couldn’t bake a cake if you handed him a boxed mix.

“Well, Taako. I see you’re here again. Should I start reserving a seat for you?”

Taako actually likes Principal Davenport, although he’d never admit it. Davenport has a sideways sense of humour about Taako’s antics, most of the time. Today he doesn’t look amused.

“Wish you would, my man. Cha’boy’s got a thing for the chair with arms on it.” Taako nods his head towards the one chair in the school’s main office with arms, currently occupied by a black girl Taako doesn’t think he’s met before. She’s got her surprisingly white hair scraped back into a bun and her uniform is picture perfect—blue plaid skirt, crisp white blouse, neat tie, regulation knee socks and shiny black loafers—except for her cardigan, which is about two sizes too big and swallows her small frame. The overall look is one Taako would categorize as mousy as fuck. “As you can see, Taako’s chair is currently occupado.”

The girl shifts in place and flushes, her eyes on her knees. Taako wasn’t trying to embarrass her, but he’s still in a capital-M Mood, so here they are.

Davenport just sighs at him, then looks at the girl in Taako’s seat and smiles. “I’ll be right with you, Lucretia. Taako, step into my office please.”

Taako hauls himself up, all over-the-top insouciant grace, and winks at Lucretia before proceeding Davenport into his office.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Taako says, as soon as the door closes. “And listen, Princi’port, the whole crying thing is on Taako, but in my defense Mr. Rick is literally the worst cook I’ve ever met. He had us making ham sandwiches. How is that even an assignment? This is Cooking and Baking _two_. This is supposed to be the _advanced_ class.”

“I’ve asked you not to call me Princi’port, Taako,” Davenport says, climbing into his chair. Literally climbing, because Davenport may be a gnome, but the office is sized for an average human. There’s a little ladder beside his office chair. Taako’s pretty sure the fact that the school is scaled for medium-sized proportions is racist, but if the principal can’t get things changed in his own office, what’s Taako going to do about it?

“Principal Davenport. Whatever.” Taako waves a hand. “My point about Mr. Rick stands.”

“Mr. Rick has asked me to expel you for your actions in class today,” Davenport says, voice flat. The way he’s looking at Taako doesn’t have the usual amusement bubbling under the surface. He looks like maybe he’s _considering_ the expulsion.

Taako goes still. “I can’t get expelled.”

“You’re the one who controls your behaviour, Taako,” Davenport says. “You’re the one who needs to face the consequences of that behaviour.”

“I _can’t_ get expelled,” Taako says again. “Principal Davenport, come on. All I did was make a good sandwich.”

Neverwinter High is not inexpensive. It’s one of the top schools in Faerun. Notable Neverwinter High alumni include most of the previous Lord Protectors of Neverwinter, the High Cleric of Glittergold, and Selene Brightrunner, voted Faerun’s number one bard three years running. Most of its students are predestined for success—they come from wealthy, legacy families who enroll their children as boarders and then show up to every event the schools has in order to bully the teachers into ensuring little Gwendylynon or Chad does extraordinarily well during the school year.

Taako is not one of those students. Taako isn’t even a day student—who the boarders look down upon with great disdain because _day_ students come from the type of families who can only afford to pay a modest fortune to send their kids to Neverwinter High. No, Taako belongs to the rung under that—Taako is a scholarship kid.

Taako is a scholarship kid who, he’s sure, is here mostly because he and Lup made it very clear that they were a package deal in their applications. His sister is a bright light shining in the darkness and Neverwinter High would have to be crazy to have passed on her, even if she did come with a twin brother.

Taako hates this. Davenport and Mr. Rick have all the power and there’s nothing he can do except appeal to Davenport’s better nature because he _knows_ Mr. Rick. Mr. Rick would love to get Taako kicked out of school. Mr. Rick loathes him.

Davenport leans back in his seat, raises an eyebrow. “Did you or did you not lead your classmates in chanting ‘Take a bite, Rick’?”

Taako pauses. “Okay, yes. Technically I did do that.”

“Taako, do you know how many other students have made a teacher cry?”

“I feel like this is a trick question,” Taako says, after a moment. As far as he knows, no one else has made a teacher cry in the years he’s been at Neverwinter High, except for the time he made Leon the artificing teacher lose it, but Leon had also been referring to Taako openly as a hellion for a month before Taako decided he’d had enough. And Leon hadn’t asked for Taako to be _expelled_ so Taako was inclined to like him more now.

“I don’t just mean in your time at Neverwinter High, Taako,” Davenport says. “In my whole career as an educator. Do you know how many students have made a teacher cry?”

Taako pauses. Squints at Davenport as he tries to weigh his answer. Probably not that many, right? “... Five?”

“One, Taako,” Davenport says. “One student. You are the only student I have ever had to make a teacher cry.”

“Two teachers.”

Davenport frowns at him. “You see why I might consider the expulsion, don’t you? I can’t allow bullying in my school.”

“It’s not _bullying_! Don’t be ridic—”

“I’m not going to expel you, Taako.”

Taako shuts up fast, before he accidentally changes Davenport’s mind.

Davenport gives him a knowing look. “I’m not going to expel you, but in deference to Mr. Rick and to your own objections to his class, I’m going to remove you from it. I think it would be best for all parties if the two of you had... some space.”

It’s better than being expelled, but it’s still a blow. Rick is a terrible teacher who doesn’t know how to cook and the way he runs home ec is the worst, but Taako likes cooking. Taako likes getting the chance to make good food and to show off and to feed people who appreciate his skills. Taako’s class has come to respect and admire him, at least within the boundaries of the home ec room.

“You can’t just pull me out of a class,” Taako protests. “We’re halfway through the semester. What am I supposed to do for the rest of the year? I need to graduate at some point. Unless you _want_ to keep me here for another year.”

“Gods, no,” Davenport says, which is hurtful but probably a gut reaction and not something Taako should take to heart. “No, we want you to graduate and do well, Taako. We’ll figure out a way for you to make up the remaining credits. Perhaps a correspondence course.”

Davenport opens a desk drawer and pulls out a catalogue. The cover shows young tiefling with terrible glasses smiling as they work on a math problem. It’s emblazoned with the words LEARNING AT MY OWN PACE! in large, block letters.

Taako eyes it with utter disdain.

“See what appeals to you,” Davenport says, handing Taako the catalogue. “Take a seat outside and think about my proposal. It’s a way for you to avoid being held back. I had a meeting scheduled with Lucretia, whose time we’re wasting because of your actions today, so I’m going to ask you to wait while I speak with her.”

Taako gets to his feet, folding the catalogue in half to hide the cover. “Yeah, sure. I’ll wait.”

He knows this is supposed to be an olive branch being extended, that he should be grateful he’s not getting a permanent black mark on his already pretty grey record, but fuck if it doesn’t feel like a blow to be handed a book of shitty correspondence courses and told, essentially, that no one wants to deal with him in their classes if they don’t have to. Lup’s going to kill him.

He takes his seat outside again as Lucretia walks into Davenport’s office and shuts the door. Taako contemplates moving to the chair with arms, contemplates looking at the catalogue of courses available to him, and opts instead to eavesdrop.

Lucretia may have shut the door, but Taako’s an elf. He’s got big ears and nothing to do. He can hear her and Davenport through the door, voices only slightly muffled.

“I sympathize, Lucretia. You know I’d like to support you, but you just don’t have enough—”

“How do you propose I gain support? Everyone knows the school wants to shut the paper down. I don’t see how you can, in good conscience, tell me there isn’t enough sustained interest to justify the cost. Sir, this is _important_ to me. It would be important to a lot of people if you gave it a chance.”

“Lucretia.”

“You’re not even willing to let me fight for it!”

Even if Taako wasn’t an elf, he’d have heard _that_. Lucretia’s obviously upset, which makes Taako both want to hear all the juicy details of what’s happening inside the room and crawl the fuck away, to where he might not get caught in the wake of some kind of scene. Taako is fine making other people feel emotions, but when their emotions are thrust unwillingly on to him, he doesn’t do so good.

The silence on the other side of the door is very telling. Princi’port would never let Taako snap at him like that.

“I’ll give you until the end of semester,” Davenport says, proving that Taako’s life is unfair and everyone is biased against him. “If you can show me that the school’s paper is a worthwhile investment, then I’ll make sure you don’t get shut down, but you have to be prepared, Lucretia. This is the last time I can pull strings for you.”

“Thank you, sir.” Lucretia’s voice is calm and collected now that she’s gotten her way. Taako doesn’t know her, but he approves. Taako also thinks he sees a way out of his own situation.

When Lucretia opens the door to Davenport’s office, Taako jumps to his feet. “Hey, listen,” he says. “I overheard what you two were talking about just now. I have a proposal.”

Lucretia looks distinctly unimpressed. Davenport looks like he feels a headache coming on.

“Hear me out, Princi’port. You need a place to put me for the rest of the semester, right? She needs help with the paper? I could do that instead of this.” Taako waves at the catalogue in his hand. “This is a waste of Taako’s many skills. Journalism is where it’s at. Don’t let anyone tell you print media is dead. I’m all about preserving the written word and, uh, fair and balanced media.”

These are all terms Taako is pretty sure apply to journalism.

“The school paper is a club, Taako. Not a class,” Davenport says. “As much as I’m sure Lucretia would love to have you join the paper, I don’t think—”

Taako holds up a finger, flipping LEARNING AT MY OWN PACE! open to the table of contents. Lucretia doesn’t look like she’d love having Taako join her paper, but Taako doesn’t need to convince her. The paper sounds like it’s in enough trouble that if Davenport says yes to this, she’ll _have_ to go along with it. He finds the appropriate page number and turns to it, then brandishes it at Davenport. “Really? Because according to this journalism is for sure a creditable course. Just let me do the paper instead, give me a B and call it a day.”

“We don’t have a teacher for—”

Lucretia snatches the catalogue from Taako’s hand and turns to face Davenport too, scanning the course description. “If the paper _was_ part of a course, that would mean it had more value for the school though, wouldn’t it?” Lucretia asks. “If, say, there were students enrolled in a correspondence journalism course who produced the paper as part of their learning?”

“That’s not—that’s not really how those courses are supposed to work,” Davenport says. “They’re independent study.”

Lucretia clears her throat and reads: “Students study the basic principles of print journalism as they examine the role of printed news media in our society. They learn investigative skills, responsible reporting, and journalistic writing techniques as they read, respond to, and write their own news and feature articles. Students conduct interviews, research, write, and design their own publications.” She looks up at Davenport. “I don’t see anything in the course description that says you’re required to work alone. In fact, our version of the course would be an improvement. It would introduce students to the basics of working for a real publication. We’d complete the assignments for the correspondence course, send them off, and produce the school paper at the same time. Surely the school sees the value in that.”

“Lucretia…” Davenport definitely needs a nap. Maybe a drink. An under the radar visit to Pringles behind the cafeteria for that good kush.

Davenport looks at Lucretia, then he looks at Taako. Taako swears, just for a moment, that he sees the old gnome smile.

“All right,” Davenport says. “I can see there’s no stopping you. I’ll allow the paper to count for course credit, provided you also enroll in the correspondence journalism course. We’ll do this on a trial run. At the end of the semester, the Board of Governors, the teachers, and I will make a decision about the paper’s future. Fair?”

“Completely,” Lucretia says, snapping the catalogue shut. “Thank you, sir. You know how much this means to me.”

Lucretia closes Davenport’s office door and turns to look at Taako. Gone is the shy girl from earlier. Right now, she is fierce. “I don’t know why you decided to volunteer to work on the paper with me, but this isn’t a joke, okay? I need this. When I apply for university I want clippings to show the journalism schools. I’m going to win a fantasy Pulitzer one day. All I’ve ever wanted to be is a writer. Don’t mess this up for me, Taako.”

Taako… might have let this get away from him. The whole point of offering to help with the paper was to get _out_ of having to take one of the weird mail in courses, not to have all his options stripped away and be forced into a weird, dying profession. There might have been a course that was much easier to blow off in there. Fuck, he’d probably lost the chance to bullshit his way through _philosophy_ or something. Taako would rock philosophy. He could make up shit better than anyone he knew.

Taako reaches out and plucks the catalogue from Lucretia’s hands. “I resent the implication that I fuck things up. I’m in this situation because teachers find me too intimidating.”

Lucretia pauses, looks Taako over. “Did you make _another_ teacher cry?”

“Everyone keeps saying that like it's hard,” Taako says, rolling his eyes. “Rick deserved it. He had us making ham sandwiches. A ham sandwich isn’t a recipe; it’s a cry for help. I just showed everyone how to make croque monsieur instead. Are we done here or what? I can only use Princi’port as an excuse for not being in gym for so long.”

Lucretia looks Taako over, then nods, once. “Come to the paper’s headquarters after school,” she says. “We’ll figure out how we’re going to schedule this course so we can meet the requirements and get the paper out.” Lucretia pauses. “The newspaper club meets in the library, towards the back. There’s a side room. That’s our office.”

Taako doesn’t spend a lot of time in the library, granted, but he’d always been under the impression the weird door in the back of the room went to a cupboard. He nods anyway. “I know where it is. Don’t you worry your pretty little head. I’ll be there.”

Lucretia doesn’t exactly seem comforted to hear this, but they’re stuck with each other now. Taako’s briefly viable plan of goofing off for the rest of the semester is screwed and he’s pretty sure Lucretia needs him at this point. It’s a weird spot to be in. Being relied on isn’t his jam. Taako avoids responsibility and consequences at all costs.

“You’d better be,” Lucretia says, and marches out of the office in a swirl of blue skirt and white knee socks.

The ‘or else’ is heavily implied.

*

Taako skips the rest of gym. It’s a useless class and a waste of his time, so no big. If Davenport calls him on it, Taako will claim he had to spend some quality time doing a thorough reading of the journalism course description or something. Totally relevant to his education.

He’s waiting outside Ren’s accounting class when the lunch bell goes.

“Taako! What happened with Principal Davenport? I _told_ you we should just follow the recipe,” she says, when she sees him. “How much trouble are you in for making Rick cry?”

Taako smiles because everything worked out, more or less. “Rick tried to get me expelled, but Princi’port wasn’t having it,” he says. “Don’t worry. I’m good. I’m just… not in home ec anymore. Which is _fine_ because my talents shouldn’t be wasted in that hellscape anyway.”

Ren doesn’t look reassured by any of this. “You got kicked out of class?”

“Technically, yes. No big.”

“Taako.”

Friendship isn’t something Taako is great at. He and Lup grew up needing nobody but each other and, briefly, their aunt. When Auntie died, there’d been a lot of arguing amongst distant relations about who was going to take the twins on, so Taako and Lup had set out to make their fortunes. They bounced around for a few years, in and out of caravans, until Lup decided they should apply for Neverwinter High scholarships.

Taako trusts exactly one person in the world: his sister. He knows it’s the same for her, with him.

Ren is cool though. A day student. She’d started out intimidated by Taako, but the fact that Ren also liked cooking and secretly enjoyed the hell out of most of Taako’s shenanigans means he’s graciously accepted her into his life.

“Princi’port worked it out, bubelah,” Taako says. “I’m not _thrilled_ with the solution, but I’m not repeating a year of school or anything. I’m in journalism now.”

There’s a long pause. Ren’s brow furrows in confusion and she tucks a strand of her bobbed, white hair behind her ear. “Taako, we don’t _have_ a journalism class.”

Taako slings an arm around Ren’s shoulders. “Let me tell you all about my brilliant plan to reinvigorate the school paper while graduating on time,” he says. “I’ll explain over chocolate milk and french fries in the cafeteria.”

Taako’s explanation doesn’t actually take that long. By the time they make it through the lunch line with their—soggy, limp—fries, Ren is up to speed on Taako’s current life sitch. They take a seat at their usual corner table and Ren watches solemnly while Taako dumps a crapload of ketchup onto his plate.

“Lup is going to kill you,” she says. “You’re my ex-friend.”

“Lup’s not my mom.” Taako opens his milk and drops a straw into the carton. “It’s not even a thing. I’ll do the paper and pass the class and then I’ll be golden. No higher learning establishment on the planet cares about a teenage elf dropping home ec partway through the semester.”

The doubt on Ren’s face is borderline offensive.

“Don’t you think you should be a little worried? It’s our senior year. This is it, you know?”

Taako rolls his eyes—hard—and slumps forward on the table, stretching out a hand. He lays it on top of one of hers. “Ren, please. Ren, not you too. Next you’re going to be telling me you want to buy class rings or sweatpants with our class year on the ass. I swear to all the gods you won’t peak in high school. Don’t do me like this.”

Ren laughs. It’s one of the reasons Taako likes her, her finding him funny. “There’s a difference between not wanting you to get expelled and thinking this is the high point of my life.”

“Expelled?”

Taako freezes in place and gives Ren a dirty look, then slowly turns to look at his sister. Lup is holding a lunch tray of her own—french fries and strawberry milk—and has a dark expression on her face.

“Hi, Lulu…”

“Don’t you Lulu me, Taako. What does Ren mean, expelled?” Lup sets her tray on the table with too much force and sits beside him, straddling the bench so she can stare him down. “Did you talk to Leon again? I told you to stay away.”

“Okay, it’s not fair that _I_ don’t get to take artificing just because Leon can’t take a joke.” Taako considers lying, then makes a face. Suddenly working for the school paper and not being in home ec will be hard to hide. “But no. I made Rick cry and run out of the classroom today. He got worked up over it and tattled to Princi’port.”

Lup’s mouth betrays her, briefly, as she fights to repress a laugh and nearly fails. She closes her eyes for a moment, taking a breath and schooling her face. “Taako.”

“Lup, it’s _fine_. I’m working on the school paper for the rest of the semester for course credit. I just mail stuff in for someone to mark and send back.”

“Wait, we have a school paper?” Lup opens up her milk. “I didn’t know you could just do school by mail. I want to do mail school.”

Taako reaches out and tugs on a stand of Lup’s short hair. It’s an unfortunate mottled orange right now, after a failed attempt to bleach her ends and dye them red. “Grow this mess out and you can take the class for me,” he says, tossing his bleached blond braid over his shoulder. “Like when we were kids. I have to go figure out how the paper thing works after class today.”

“I’ll come too. Scope it out.” Lup dips one of her fries in Taako’s ketchup. “Sounds like it could be a pretty sweet gig and we don’t have any classes together this year.”

This is true. Taako and Lup are happiest when they’re inseparable, but in their time at Neverwinter High the school has caught on to the fact that keeping Lup and Taako apart was a much more manageable situation for their teachers. Even signing up for nearly identical course loads hasn’t kept them together this semester. And then there’s the whole _participation_ thing Lup does, which Taako’s not a fan of. Her spending three nights a week practicing with the field hockey team means significantly less twin time overall.

Taako likes the idea of using this school paper as a loophole for them to exploit. “Knock yourself out. Ren, you ever want to be a journalist?”

“Can’t drop anything I’m taking now,” Ren says, making a face. “I mean, I guess I could drop home ec, but it’ll look good when I apply for restaurant management programs, so… sorry, Taako.”

Taako shrugs it off. “Your loss, homie.”

Ren is going to open a restaurant; Taako is going to be a baller wizard and her favourite customer.

Cooking is his passion. He’s really great at it—so is Lup, but Lup wants to go to the Institute of Planar Research. She’s all in on becoming a preeminent scholar and practicer of evocation magic and Taako’s not about to let her go off and get hella smart without him. But—while he sees the appeal of blowing shit up—what Taako’s really into is transmutation. Even the way he cooks, taking a bunch of ingredients and turning them into a cohesive dish,  is arguably a feat of transmutation because his dishes are _magical_ , no matter what Rick thinks. 

So he definitely doesn’t need Cooking and Baking II, because the Institute is going to be way more interested in his magicks and his core competency marks. Cooking and Baking II was just supposed to be… fun.

Under pain of death Taako will swear he’s not a planner, that he’s not the kind of person who sits down and maps out how his life is going to go—why bother, when everything changes?—but showing everyone who ever doubted the two of them how amazing the Taaco twins are has been his and Lup’s plan since they were kids. The Institute is a surefire way to do that, even if Taako _does_ hate math.

“We’re going to turn the school paper I just found out about the fuck around,” Lup says, grinning and holding up her fist for Taako to bump.

He does, smiling at his sister. “Fuck yeah we are. Lucretia won’t know what hit her.”

*

The Neverwinter High library is big, but after school it’s almost completely empty. People have better things to do than hang out in a library that looks more like the set of a movie than a place for practical studying to occur. Taako suspects it’s where much of the school’s budget goes—it’s all dark wood and leather-bound books, discrete rows of elegant tables and faux fantasy Tiffany lamps. Garfield, the librarian, only ever seems to appear when someone is about to take out a granola bar or open a bottle of water, and even then he’s only around long enough to shuffle them out the door. Taako has yet to see him help anyone with their research.

The library is opulent and oppressive, grandly insistent on being acknowledged, but not as a place that welcomes students—most people study in the student lounge or one of the dorm common rooms.

Taako and Lup’s footsteps echo as they walk through it.

“We could be murdered here and no one would ever know,” Lup says. “Where did you say the school paper was?”

“Back corner.” Taako leads the way. The door to the paper’s headquarters is cracked open and voices filter through the gap.

“—a good thing if Principal Davenport is letting us stay open, Luce,” some nerd is saying. “He can’t be that bad.”

Taako gives the door an offended look, then flings it open dramatically. He just barely holds back the urge to cast Prestidigitation as he makes his grand entrance. If Lucretia’s talking shit already, then Taako’s going to make himself very visible. “What’s up, nerds?”

There are exactly two and a half people in the office: Lucretia, standing at the front of the room with a notebook bound in blue leather in her hands; a pasty human boy in the world’s worst glasses—who’s somehow getting away with wearing the most normie jeans Taako’s ever seen with the top half of his school uniform—and a kid whose uniform is not only perfectly tailored to his mini-body, but also includes a matching hat with an actual feather in it, making the baby the most fashionable person in the room besides Taako and Lup.

“Taako,” Lucretia says, greeting him with far more dignity than any seventeen-year-old should be able to muster. “And… you must be Lup.”

“I must be,” Lup agrees, wandering around the dingy little office. The difference between it and the library outside is stark. The walls are beige with a faded stripe of Neverwinter High blue wrapping around ceiling.  There’s a worn table in the center of the room with visible dents in the legs and all the seating in the room is an obvious hand-me-down: a few metal stools from the alchemy lab, a wooden chair with graffiti in poorly conjugated Elvish carved into the wood, and a monstrosity of a yellow armchair shoved off into the corner—Taako presumes out of shame. It’s mismatched and ugly as hell. It all pains Taako, but the absolute worst part of the room is the banner hanging behind Lucretia, over the chalkboard, which reads—in fantasy Comic Sans, of course— _To Seek the Truth and Maintain Balance!_

“We’ve already started our meeting if you’d like to take a seat,” Lucretia says. “We have a lot of work to do. Lup, are you joining the paper?” There’s something in her eyes that says ‘No, please gods.’

“Still figuring that out,” Lup says, pulling out the stool beside the denim-clad dude. “You’re Lucretia? Nice to meet you. Seems like you could use more girls here to balance things out a bit.”

Taako slumps over to Lup’s free side and sits, eying the kid on the opposite side of the table. “Did someone bring their son?”

The kid sits up straighter and adjusts his glasses. “I’m Angus McDonald, sir,” says Angus McDonald. “I’m in AP Elvish with you.”

Taako squints at Angus. He does recall a particularly short student in that class. “I think I assumed you were a halfling.”

“No, I’m human, sir,” Angus says. “Just a little boy.”

Well. Okay. Taako turns his attention to the guy sitting beside Lup. His face is light pink beneath his glasses. “What about you, thug? Got a name?”

“B-barry,” B-barry stutters. “I, uh, I’m… We have Magical Theory together?”

Taako twists the end of his braid in a hand and looks actually-probably-just-Barry over, then shrugs. “If you say so.”

“Oh, hey. You’re in artificing with me,” Lup says, grinning at Barry. “You’re the one who resurrected the bird that hit the window, right?”

Barry goes _bright_ red. “Yes, that’s—it was an accident. I was just… startled.”

Sometimes Taako regrets his lifetime ban from Leon’s classes. Not often, but sometimes.

“No, it was hilarious,” Lup says, grinning. “I thought Greg Grimmaldis was going to shit himself.”

Lucretia clears her throat. “Now that we’ve got introductions out of the way, could we focus?” she asks. “Taako, Lup, you should know that the school’s paper is on thin ice. I’ve struggled to keep it going since I became editor two years ago. And I’ve made improvements, but without a budget or sustained interest, this might be the last year the Neverwinter High News runs.”

Taako wrinkles his nose at the name. “Our school paper is just called The News? I think I found your first problem. Nobody’s interested in reading something that’s just called The News.”

“We inherited the name,” Lucretia says. “That’s not important. What really matters is the content.”

“Well, sure, but you’ve got to convince people to _read_ your paper first.” Taako sees a light at the end of the tunnel, a way to make this situation not totally dull. “What you need is a rebranding. Stir up interest again. Lup, what was it you said to me today when I told you I was going to work on the school paper?”

“I said, ‘We have a school paper?’” Lup grins at Taako, leaning her elbows on the table. “A rebranding sounds fun. Make the paper sexier.”

“It’s a _school_ paper. It’s not supposed to be sexy,” Lucretia says. “One of our reporters is ten.”

“They have a point,” Barry says. 

Taako knew there was something good lurking behind those glasses. 

“If the paper is becoming a real course, why can’t we revamp it? We could really make it ours, Lucretia. I know you’ve wanted to institute more changes. We could do a relaunch and drum up more interest in the work we’re doing.”

Lucretia stares at the three of them, obviously fighting the urge to reject Taako and Lup’s proposal out of hand. She sighs and throws her hands up in the air. “Okay, sure,” she says. “It wouldn’t hurt to get a little more creative with the paper. And it _is_ a bad name.” Lucretia sits at the head of the table, on one of the stools, and opens her notebook. “If we’re really serious about this, then there are a few things we need to do. Everyone needs to register for the course, obviously. We’ll spend a day brainstorming new names for the paper, but I’m putting my foot down on the layout. We’re not turning this into a magazine, and besides, it’s already going to be a steep learning curve for our two new members without making all five of us learn an entirely new system. We’ll have to decide on assignments for everyone. I think we’ll be able to produce more than a broadside with the additional people power. Maybe a whole spread. If it’s for class credit, we can justify the time.”

Taako has no idea what any of this terminology means. Well, he can intuit what _layout_ means via context clues, but the broad-whatever is beyond him. 

“Hold up,” he says. “Broad-what?”

Lucretia looks up at Taako. The despair she feels is plain as day on her face. “A broadside is a single page, double-sided sheet of newspaper,” she says. “With just three of us working on the paper, that’s all we were able to push out for our first issue. A full spread broadsheet will mean four pages of content. It’ll be more work, but more impressive too. You really don’t know anything about journalism, do you?”

“Nope,” Taako agrees. “Not a thing. Simple, idiot wizard. That’s me.”

Lup kicks him under the table. “Don’t be a dick, Taako. This terminology stuff will be in the homework for the course, right? We’ll catch up.”

Lucretia nods, looking down at the list she made in her notebook again. “Good. We need to work fast if we want to relaunch in time for our next publication date. We’ve only got a week until the next issue is supposed to be out.” She springs off the stool and marches to the blackboard. “We’ll stick to our bi-monthly schedule. We’ll all need to provide some content. Barry, Angus, and I can handle the bulk of the work this time around, since the two of you have to catch up with the rest of us. Maybe you can do an article each?”

Lucretia’s writing is precise as she scrawls out their names in a neat row on the blackboard and underlines each. She turns back to the table. “Barry, Angus—what have you got?”

“Reporting on the Board of Governors meetings this month,” Angus says, flipping open a notepad. “There’s some interesting stuff about scholarship funding and the school’s public image. I could do an op-ed on the state of the library as well. It focuses heavily on research, but doesn’t have a robust fiction collection. I’d say that’s a downfall for the breadth that should be expected of us, as students at one of the most prestigious schools in Faerun, and especially for a boarding school. It makes it more difficult to read for pleasure.”

Barry and Lucretia nod like these aren’t the most boring ideas they’ve ever heard.

“I want to do a piece on what students are creating in the artificing classes,” Barry said. “I think it’s really interesting what people come up with based on the materials available to us. I can feature a few objects and get some good quotes, I think. And I’ll do the profile piece this month. Jenkins agreed to be featured.”

“I’ll cover the spending cuts to the school paper and our subsequent rebranding,” Lucretia says. “We can make that a whole sheet. Each of us can say a little about what we want to get out of the class and why it’s important. Plus my usual editorial work and the illustrations for the paper.” She looks at Taako and Lup after she finishes writing all the story ideas down. “Taako, Lup—any ideas?”

“Yeah,” Taako says. “What about something interesting? This is… tragic. No wonder people don’t read the paper.”

Lup kicks him again, which is just rude because all he’s doing is being honest. “What Taako _means_ is that you need something with a little flair. Horoscopes or an advice column or, I don’t know, cover the sports teams.”

Lucretia glances at the board and then looks back at Taako and Lup. “One of you can cover sports,” she says. “It’s true that they’re a large part of student life. It might encourage people to become more invested in reading the paper if there were more human interest pieces. I don’t think we should waste column inches on horoscopes though.”

“I’ll do sports,” Lup says, shrugging. “I can write about the field hockey game on Saturday. Our team doesn’t get enough exposure anyway. Taako can do an advice column.”

Lucretia opens her mouth to protest, but Taako beats her to the punch. “Hell yeah,” he says. “I give the best advice. I can totally do that.”

“I really don’t—”

“If Taako does an advice column, he won’t have to do the research for a full article,” Barry says. “I think it’s a good idea. Lup covering her own game and Taako doing something light means they’ll have time to catch up with everything else.”

Across the table, Angus nods. “It would be good to have some lighter material for the backpage. Maybe we can include a book review too? That would be nice.”

Taako can think of a million things nicer than a book review, but since it currently seems like he’s going to get away with bullshitting his way through an advice column and it’s going to count for _course credit_ , he keeps his mouth shut.

Lucretia looks around the table at her team, and then writes Taako and Lup’s new roles on the board—advice and sports respectively. Angus gets ‘book review’ added to his list of assignments. “We can rotate who does the review,” she says. “You’re right, Angus. It’ll be a fun piece to include. Now, are we all clear on what tasks we need—”

There’s a knock on the door and then it swings open and Magnus Burnsides pokes his head into the room.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says. “This is the school paper, right? Cool. I’m Magnus.”

Magnus Burnsides is one of the basketball team’s star players. He’s cheerfully friendly with most people, but is also regularly involved in fights. Most have nothing to do with him when they start, but somehow he manages to insert himself into them anyway.

It’s the kind of chaotic energy Taako would normally approve of, except that Taako’s antics are viewed by the teaching staff at Neverwinter High with antacid-fueled dread and Magnus’s are met with an indulgent forbearance that is completely and utterly unfair. 

Also, Magnus and Lup get on like a house on fire and Taako’s not down with that.

Lucretia, Barry, and Angus look like they’re having similar mixed feelings about one of the most popular boys in school showing up unannounced to their meeting. Lup looks delighted.

“Magnus, are you… joining the paper?” Lucretia asks, as if it pains her to do so. The answer is already an obvious yes.

Magnus wanders into the room, walking around the table to take a seat next to Angus. “Yeah,” he says. “Principal Davenport said it would be a good way to boost my GPA this year. Make me more well-rounded for applications, you know?”

Davenport is evil and Taako takes back every charitable thought he’s ever had about the gnome.

“Well, we… that…” Lucretia looks around the room, for support from some quarter. When none is forthcoming, she nods. “I suppose we can’t object. We were just going over assignments for the upcoming issue. Have you… do you have much experience?”

“Nope, none,” Magnus says. “What do you want me to do?”

There is a long, uncomfortable pause while all eyes turn to the board and the assignments written on it. Taako is gratified to note that the trepidation over his assignment was based on the work itself and not on preconceived notions about his capabilities.

“Magnus can cover the boys’ basketball game,” Lup says. “It’s only fair, since I’m doing my game. We can all work out other things to do later.” She holds up a hand to high-five Magnus, who slaps their palms together eagerly.

“Fuck yeah, teamwork!” Magnus turns to Lucretia. “I like dogs too. Could you use anything about dogs?”

“I don’t… I don’t think we need a column on dogs right now,” Lucretia says. “You can do basketball. We should introduce ourselves.”

“Barry, Lup, Taako, Lucretia, Angus, right?” Magnus asks, going around the room and pointing to each of them in turn. “It’s cool. I know who you are.”

Barry’s face has a clear _why_ on it, but he nods. “Great,” he says. “So… good first meeting of the new team? Come back next time with ideas for a new name?”

“Tomorrow after school,” Lucretia says. “Come back with your course paperwork filled out and with ideas for a new name for the paper. I know some of our new members have other obligations after classes some days, but if you miss the meeting or you’re late tomorrow, I’m afraid you won’t be able to continue on with us. We need everyone to take this seriously if we’re going to make it work. We’ll work out our future schedule after that.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” Taako says, saluting and getting to his feet. “I’m just _dying_ to fill out some forms. Lup, let’s bounce.”

Lup stands too, drumming her knuckles against the table. “Later, nerds.”

They leave the room the same way they entered it—with panache. Lup seems pleased with how the meeting went.

“This is going to be fun,” she says. “Course credit for writing about things I’m doing anyway? Well done, Taako.”

Taako snorts. “You’re the one who suggested an _advice_ column. I can’t believe they’re going to let me do that. What a con.”

They high-five too, grinning at each other.

“I’m going to come up with the best names,” Lup says. “The Neverwinter Never-read. The Neverwinter Gnome’s Notes. Because of Princi’port.”

“You’re thinking too small,” Taako says, shaking his head. “Scale it up. I’m coming in with something epic. I don’t have it yet, but check this space. It’s going to kick ass.”

“Bet I can do better, baby bro. It’ll be my legacy. The best newspaper name this school has ever had.” Lup laughs and knocks their shoulders together.

It’s good to have a class with her again, even if it is a weird correspondence journalism course Taako was essentially tricked into signing up for. They’re going to make this work.

“Infamy or bust.”

*

The thing about an uptight school like Neverwinter High is that when you make your teachers cry, almost get expelled, and generally “ _act out_ ” like Taako does, they try and make you talk about your feelings. It’s annoying and bad and Taako hates it, but as far as counselor’s go, Merle Highchurch isn’t the worst. He doesn’t try to force Taako to talk about anything he doesn’t want to talk about and he’s not a complete asshole. 

He _is_ a weird hippie and a cleric, but Taako can deal with that in exchange for Merle never looking at him with pity over some childhood bullshit Taako feels nothing about.

Taako knocks on the door to Merle’s office, after parting ways with Lup, and opens it to the sight of Merle stroking the shiny leaves of his largest ficus, a watering can in his prosthetic hand.

“Should I come back?” Taako asks. “Do you two want some privacy?”

Merle’s office holds an alarming number of houseplants. Taako spends most of his appointments trying really hard not to think about Merle’s probable fetish. He’s walked in on Merle having private conversations with plants before and it’s a bad scene. 

Merle stops petting his shiny-leafed plant and moves to the row of succulents on the windowsill, watering them without turning to look at Taako. “I heard you made another teacher cry today.”

“I've only done it twice.” Taako closes the door behind himself and drops into one of Merle’s chairs. Honestly, breaking Mr. Rick has been a long time coming. Taako’s been open about his contempt for the man from the get go. “Does Pan know you’re a gossip, Merle? Rick’s a loser anyway.”

Merle keeps sedately watering his plants and Taako bounces a foot against the leg of his chair. Merle’s office is small and the sheer volume of plants makes it feel even smaller. It’s kind of nice though. Bringing the outside in and all that jazz.

“I have another course lined up,” Taako says, when there’s nothing more forthcoming from Merle. “Princi’port had it all worked out by the time I got to his office. I’m taking journalism.”

There’s silence from the window as Merle painstakingly waters his plants. “We don’t... have a journalism class,” he says, after a moment.

“We do now,” Taako says. “Sort of. It’s correspondence.”

Merle lets out a bark of hoarse laughter and Taako’s head whips around to level a glare at him. Counselors aren’t supposed to laugh at students. He’s one hundred percent _sure_ of that.

Merle’s turned away from his plants and is grinning at Taako, his one good eye twinkling with deep, deep amusement. “You got LEARNING AT MY OWN PACE’d, didn’t you?”

Fuck Taako’s life. “I did not,” he says. “Not _really_. Lup’s taking the class too.”

“Sure,” Merle says. “You going to tell me what you did to Mr. Rick to make him cry? Because so far I’ve heard stories ranging from you setting today’s recipe on fire to eating all the ham in the home ec room.”

“Why would I eat that much ham?” Taako shakes his head. “This school fucking sucks. I thought Princi’port would have told you.” He lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess technically the ham thing’s the closest? I didn’t set anything on fire. I’m not Lup. Rick had us making ham sandwiches. I made a croque monsieur because Taako isn’t a hack and it’s _technically_ a ham sandwich too.” Taako shrugs, artful and indifferent. “Rick didn’t want to eat it. I told him to take a bite. The class decided they also wanted him to try it. I can’t help it if I occasionally inspire my fellow students to rise up against the tyranny of bad cooking.”

Merle sets his watering can down, crosses his arms over his chest as he leans back against the window ledge. “And now they’re going to teach you how to broadcast your thoughts to the world at large?”

“Scale it down a bit,” Taako says. “Princi’port only made me join the school paper.”

Merle’s eyebrows raise. “So what you’re saying is, in response to you starting a revolt in a single home ec class, Principal Davenport is giving you open access to the press?”

Taako pauses, tilts his head. “Huh,” he says. “I don’t think he thought this through.”

Merle pushes off the wall and walks over to take a seat behind his desk. Unlike Principal Davenport, he’s actually got furniture more or less scaled to work for him. Maybe it’s an administrator thing and Davenport can’t spend money on accommodations for himself. Merle leans back in his office chair and rests his hands on his stomach.

Merle doesn’t pretend to dress professionally. Taako’s fairly certain he’s never seen him wear anything other than his Hawaiian shirts and khaki shorts. The lack of bullshit Merle provides is actually pretty refreshing after a full day of wading through classes at Neverwinter High.

“Do you want to talk about why you felt the need to antagonize Mr. Rick today?”

Taako gives Merle an unimpressed look. “I _could_ talk about it, but it seems like a real waste of both of our time. He’s a shitty teacher and a shitty cook. He wouldn’t last a day doing it for a living. The people would rebel the way his class did today. There’s no tears in the kitchen.”

“Uh-huh,” Merle says. “Look, Taako, you know I like you. That ship’s sailed. Can’t pretend I like Rick too much either, and his class _is_ a joke, but we’ve talked about this before.”

Taako’s pretty sure they haven’t had an in-depth discussion about Taako making people cry before, unless Merle’s referring to when Taako was first mandated to attend these sessions, following the whole Leon thing. “Have we?”

“Self-sabotage.” Merle spreads his hands. “We both know you could have taken an easy A in home ec, but now you’re in a correspondence journalism class and working for the school paper.”

“Like _fuck_ was I going to sit around and let Rick tell me how to make a fucking sandwich,” Taako says. He digs his nails into the palms of his hands. “That’s bullshit. It’s not self-sabotage to not compromise your—your _integrity_ for a fucking grade.”

Merle considers this for a moment, then smiles. “I think the paper’s going to be a good place for you, kid,” he says. “I’ll let Dav know we hashed things out.”

Taako doesn’t get what Merle thinks they’ve done, but he grabs his tote bag off the floor and slings it over his shoulder regardless. He doesn’t _need_ to know to be glad he can leave. The appointment’s over and he can go back to his dorm.

“Cool. Good talk, Merle,” he said, getting to his feet. “Glad I cleared my afternoon for this. See you next week or the next time someone sends me here. Whichever comes first.”

“Have a good evening, Taako.”

Taako’s mostly planning on eating fantasy instant ramen in his room and passing the fuck out, maybe doing some homework, but that’s not any of Merle’s business.

Merle’s next appointment is waiting in the hall outside his office already when Taako leaves. It’s not anyone Taako recognizes—some underclassman orc with emo hair—but the kid leans away when he sees Taako, so obviously Taako’s reputation proceeds him. That’s fine. Taako doesn’t know what this kid thinks he’d do to a stranger in front of the school counselor’s office, but okay. Obviously not one of the brighter problem students at school.

Taako ignores him and heads for his dorm. He’s good at ignoring people. It’s one of his Taako’s defining characteristics. Taako is aloof and detached and generally not interested in whatever the fuck is going on in other people’s lives. He has a small, carefully cultivated circle of two people he likes, and even that’s pushing things a bit. He doesn’t really understand Lup’s willingness to just… care about other people. 

They’ve got each other. Who _really_ needs more than that?

*

At Neverwinter High, some seniors get single dorms. It’s the perfect way to top off four years at one of the best high schools in the world. Having your own room is a privilege earned through things like academic excellence. It involves perkily making friends, joining clubs, having a long list of extracurriculars, and stellar grades—not cultivating a fearsome reputation that has teachers cowering and begging not to have you in their class.

By all rights, Taako shouldn’t have a room to himself, but Taako knows how to play the long game. He’s had four roommates and three of them—Avi, Lucas, and Brad—begged to be rehoused before the end of their first semester living together. Pringles doesn’t count because even during freshman year he’d been almost perpetually stoned. And so, after a reign of terror characterized primarily by Taako just… being himself while in their shared space—clothes everywhere, always, very little respect for his room mates’ things—he’d been given the gift of a single room.

His clothes have more or less colonized the entire floor. Taako opens the door and kicks a uniform skirt out of his path—they’re a dime a dozen and he’s pretty sure this particular skirt is actually Lup’s—and drops his tote bag as he walks in.

He uses his feet to clear a path to the bed, flopping down face first into his pillow as soon as he reaches it.

He has paperwork for the journalism course to fill out and plans to make fantasy ramen, but the mattress feels pretty nice now that he’s on it, and if Taako’s honest, the reality of instant ramen just makes him feel sad for the world. When he and Lup were younger and still travelling in caravans, they’d had six months of really _good_ ramen—been taught to make broth rich with pork fat and bone marrow by one of the cooks they met on the road. Rich broth that coated your tongue and was cloudy with flavour. Broth that didn’t come out of a sad little powder packet, dyed an artificially bright yellow.

The food in the cafeteria isn’t much better than instant soup. Then again, considering what Rick teaches students to think of as cooking, that’s understandable. For a fancy school, the food standards at Neverwinter High are _real_ low. If the dorms had actual kitchens or students were allowed hot plates, Taako could make things work, but instead he’s been using Cooking and Baking II as a way to show off his true talents, to try to educate his classmates about real food.

Making Rick cry was totally worth the blow of losing that outlet. Taako wouldn’t take it back.

He rolls onto his side, his back to the door and his bag sitting on the floor beside it. The paperwork can wait for tomorrow.


	2. Flag

_Flag: The banner or name of the newspaper on the front page.  
_

*

Taako’s first class of the day is AP Elvish, which is a blessing because Taako may not technically _need_ sleep, but he’s still not a morning person. His vanity means he doesn’t roll out of bed last minute, like the kids who slump into class with the imprint of their pillow still on their cheek, but he does walk the delicate line between giving himself as long as possible in bed and getting up in time to make himself look like a person.

Today that means he's wearing a full face of makeup, his hair braided, as much jewelry as he can reasonably stack on, and a pair of leopard print ankle boots. Taako’s read the school dress code _thoroughly_ and the only rule about shoes is a ban on open-toed footwear. His subsequent embrace of the most ridiculous shoes he can afford/con out of others has gotten him sent to see Princi’port before. Those are usually quick visits because Princi’port knows he can’t enforce a rule that doesn't exist.

There’s only so much Taako can do with the Neverwinter High uniform, but he’s as well-dressed as he can be while in a polyester skirt. Taako’s shirt is untucked, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his tie loosely knotted for that casually disheveled you-are-all-beneath-me look. He’s got his bag slung over his shoulder as he walks into the Elvish classroom.

Angus McDonald is in the front row. He waves to Taako, looking like an actual baby and smiling too brightly for 8am. He’s gone all-in on his uniform, blazer and all. Taako isn’t actually sure where his blazer _is_ at the moment. Probably somewhere on his floor.

Taako blanks Angus and heads straight to his usual seat in the back corner of the room, by the window. The rest of the class knows to keep it free for him. Taako’s purposefully cultivated fearsome reputation serves him well in cases like these.

People are intimidated by him and Lup both, but they each play it differently. Lup makes people want to impress her; they’re drawn to her, to the way she shines and is so clearly something _special,_ like moths to a flame. She’s bright and fierce and brilliant.

Taako is different. People might admire him or think he’s funny, but they stay away because he’s ice. He’s stone. He’s a spiked wall of _no thanks_.

Taako’s good with that.

He slumps into his seat and pulls out the paperwork he needs to do to get officially registered for the journalism class, tuning out Jenkins as he starts talking the class through conjugating transitive inanimate verbs. The rhythm of filling out forms is a good morning activity. It requires very little input from his conscious brain.

Taako and Lup are both experts at navigating much more complicated paperwork than it takes to sign up for a correspondence course. They know better than to rely on other people to take care of their shit. Experience has taught them that the only people they can _really_ trust is each other. They got themselves into Neverwinter High. They’re getting themselves through school. They’ll get themselves into the Institute of Planer Research. It’s all work they did, and no one else.

The Board of Governors thinks Taako and Lup should be grateful. They want Taako to go around talking about how lucky he feels, how charmed his life is now that he’s not an orphan living on the road, scraping by with his sister. They want to put images of Taako and Lup, happy and smiling, in booklets and pass them out at orientation, show off the philanthropic side of the school.

Taako hates it.

The people who want to parade him and Lup around and so they can pat themselves on the back—can congratulate themselves on how _good_ they are—are the same people who looked at the caravans he and Lup travelled in with disgust, who would pretend the two of them were invisible when they were out on the streets. They’re the kind of people who kept walking like Taako and Lup were nothing.

Every time their scholarship money rolls in, it comes with a letter encouraging Taako and Lup to write something thanking the donors, something that talks about how much the money means to them as beautiful orphan children. He and Lup feel the same way about the request—fuck no. Burning the letters is very cathartic. Their lives aren’t tragedy porn for rich old men to jerk off over.

It’s fine, because even if Taako is a quote-unquote _hellion_ who makes teachers cry and gets kicked out of home ec, he’s also got one of the highest GPAs in the school. He needs that, to keep himself and Lup both enrolled and on their full-ride scholarships. He knows whose opinions of him matter most and maybe he’s not the most charming elf in the world, but if push came to shove Merle and Davenport would both vouch for him being troubled, high-spirited and maybe a little misguided, but not an actively bad seed.

As long as being in a correspondence journalism course doesn’t fuck up the bid he and Lup are making for university, he’s doing just fine.

There’s a line in the course sign-up forms looking for a parent or guardian’s signature to grant Taako permission to enroll in the course. He signs his own name with a flourish.

*

At lunch, Ren’s waiting at their usual table, a disapproving look on her face. It means someone told her he didn’t show for dinner last night or breakfast this morning, which means Lup knows because she’s the only person who’d notice and definitely the only person who’d tell Ren.

“Seriously,” Ren says, gesturing at the tray on the table next to hers—she’s gotten him a plate of pasta and a salad instead of his usual fries and ketchup combo. “For someone who likes cooking as much as you do, you eat a ton of junk. You blood has to be, like, half salt, Taako. Not healthy.”

Taako’s sense of self-preservation is _very_ strong so he refrains from telling Ren that actually his sodium intake is fine because he didn’t get around to making ramen the night before. “Shitty cafeteria pasta is not what you want to feed me if you’re watching my salt levels,” he says instead, taking a seat next to her. Taako picks up his fork and takes a bite of the pasta. Too much salt, heavy on the oregano, absolutely no spice, and the ground meat in the sauce has gone rubbery—to say nothing of the texture of the pasta itself, which alternates between crunchy and mush.

He makes a face. “Have these people never heard of al dente?” he asks, taking another bite because, yeah, actually, he’s kind of starving.

Ren nudges Taako’s knee with hers under the table and takes a bite of her own pasta. “How was the paper? Lup seemed into it when I saw her in Dwarvish this morning.”

Taako shrugs and digs into his salad. It’s limp and there’s too much dressing—obviously bottled, what the hell, how hard is it to throw together some oil and vinegar?—but fuck if eating something green doesn’t feel good. Maybe Ren has a point about the whole salt thing. “It’s fine. I’ve got a sweet deal going. I get to write an _advice_ column.”

Ren’s mid-bite when he makes this announcement and chokes on her pasta she laughs so hard. “You—what?”

Taako grins. “I know, right? People are going to write to _me_ and I’m going to tell them how to sort out their lives.”

“Holy shit, Taako. How did you manage that?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Taako reaches for his milk. At least Ren has allowed him chocolate. It makes up for the penance of the pasta and salad. “I’m amazing and my advice is great.”

“Lucretia didn’t want to give him anything important to do,” Lup says, sitting down across from them. _She’s_ still allowed to have fries and ketchup for lunch, Taako notes. “That’s why I’m covering my game too. She doesn’t trust us not to fuck up yet.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Ren says, while Taako makes a face at Lup across the table.

Lup kicks him.

“Hey!”

“Don’t hey me, dingus. Where were you at dinner last night? Did you eat fantasy ramen in your room _again_?”

“Oh my gods, you two aren’t my moms,” Taako says, rolling his eyes. He stabs his fork into a tomato and waved it in the air. “Look, I’m eating a vegetable.”

“Uh-huh,” Lup says, and keeps staring him down until he puts the tomato in his mouth, chews, and swallows. “I don’t have practice tonight. Help me with my Dwarvish homework after the newspaper stuff?”

“Yeah, sure,” Taako agrees. “I don’t know what’s up with you and the future conditional, but maybe this time you’ll get it. Ren, you want to stick around and hang out?”

“Can’t,” Ren says, shaking her head. “I’ve got work after school.”

“So responsible.” Lup dips a French fry in ketchup and shakes her head. “ _Me_ I get, but I don’t know why you’re friends with Taako.”

Taako squawks in protest and Ren and Lup both laugh. Some of the tension that’s been sitting heavy in his chest since Rick’s class releases and he lets himself relax into affectionate teasing from his sister, into the easy familiarity of Ren and Lup both being a hundred times more responsible than him but still, rightly, thinking he’s fucking hilarious.

*

The newly doubled newsroom reconvenes after school. Everyone arrives on time and Taako can't decide if Lucretia is disappointed or pleased by their punctuality. She collects their paperwork as they enter the room and tucks it in an envelope, presumably to pass off to Princi’port.

The table naturally divides itself in two—Taako, Lup, and Magnus on one side, Angus and Barry on the other.

“Okay,” Lucretia says, taking her place at the head of the table. “I’ll do the minutes.” She takes out a moleskin and flips it open, then uncaps an absurdly fancy pen. “I thought we’d start out with potential names, since everyone seemed to like the idea of a rebranding.” Lucretia begins writing as she speaks, not bothering to look down at the notebook as she does. “Then we’ll move on to deadlines and coursework. I picked up the first round of assignments from Principal Davenport this morning. We’re a little behind schedule because we started the course late, but it shouldn’t be too hard to catch up.”

Lucretia glances at Taako, Lup, and Magnus’s side of the table. “If our new staff members need help, we’ll figure it out.”

She pauses, draws a line in her notebook, and continues. “So, I think it might be nice to go with something classic. The Neverwinter High Tribune or the N.H. Times.”

Taako has a long list of potential names for the paper—what else is he supposed to do in class?—and he’s ready to throw down for each and every one of them. Lup has her own list and Taako hasn’t managed to sneak a peek, but he’s confident in his ability to win this.

“Bo-oring,” Lup says, planting her elbows on the table and leaning forward. “The Gnome Times.”

Magnus muffles a giggle with his hand.

Barry grins, but shakes his head. “We kind of need Davenport on our side if we want to keep funding for the paper going. He’s our advocate with the Board of Governors. Besides, if we call it The Gnome Times and the next principal isn’t a gnome, it’s going to be pretty confusing.”

“Your logic is boring,” Lup says. “Neverwinter Weekly.”

“We’re not a weekly publication,” Lucretia points out. “And isn’t that already a magazine?”

“Yes,” Lup says. “A _very popular_ magazine.”

“What about the Neverwinter Star?” Angus asks. “It sounds nice. Evocative, but professional. And it’s a classic newspaper name, like you wanted.”

Lucretia hums to herself. “I like that one. What does everyone else think?”

“Still a bit...dull, isn’t it?” Magnus asks, looking at Lucretia. “If we want people to be excited about reading the paper, it should have an exciting name. Like… The Fighting Star Times or The…  Star Writer.”

Lup laughs at the name. Taako is hit with a flash of genius. He slaps a hand down on the center of the table.

“No,” he says, discarding every name he brainstormed for the paper because they were far too basic. “Fuck that, my man. If we want people to actually _read_ the paper than we need a good name. Like The Star _blaster_.”

Magnus lets out a bark of delighted laughter and Barry, after a moment of stunned silence, loses his shit, burying his face in his hands as he giggles to himself. Taako decides he’s not that much of a nerd after all.

“ _Fuck_ yes, Taako,” Lup says. “We have to.”

They turn to Lucretia and Angus. Lucretia’s lips twitch upwards, briefly. She looks down at the notebook in front of her for the first time since she started taking minutes, like she’s trying to school her expression. “We’re naming a newspaper, not a spaceship.”

“That would be a pretty bad name for a spaceship,” Angus says.

“It’s an even worse name for a newspaper,” Taako says. “That’s why it’s _perfect_. People are going to pick up the first issue out of sheer confusion. Can’t argue with that, boy’chik. It’s pure logic. Are we voting? Let’s vote. The Starblaster?” He raises his hand. So do Lup, Magnus, and, after shooting Lucretia an apologetic glance, Barry joins them. Taako stares Angus down until the kid does too.

There is a long moment of silence as they turn to look at Lucretia, waiting.

“Gods,” she says. “I can’t believe you’re going to make me tell Principal Davenport we’re renaming the school paper The Starblaster.”

Taako grins. Lucretia has no idea what she’s in for for the rest of the semester. “Have you _met_ me? Because Davenport has. He’s expecting _much_ worse.”

Lucretia considers this, briefly, and nods. “Fair point. Okay. I guess... we’re The Starblaster now.” She looks down at her notes, visibly rallying herself as she comes to terms with the change. After a moment of silence, Lucretia takes a deep breath and looks up at her newsroom. “Okay. Okay, the schedule. We’re pressed for time, obviously. I need everyone to be done with their articles by the end of the week if we’re going to pull this off.”

She looks at Taako’s half of the table. “If you three need help with your coursework, you can ask any of us. I’m a day student, but Barry and Angus are boarders too, so they’ll be around in the evenings and they’ve both said they’re okay with tutoring you.”

Taako bristles at the suggestion that he might need tutoring in _journalism_. “I think we’re good on help for a correspondence journalism class,” he says. “But how am I supposed to write an advice column with no question?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Lucretia says. “Normally we wouldn’t want to fake anything, but in this particular case I think it would be fair to just… ask around. See if any of your friends have questions they need help with and answer those. We’ll put out a call for questions in the first re-launch issue. We should get at least one or two from that.”

Taako’s pretty sure Ren’s got everything on lock, and Lup’s definitely not going to give him a reasonable question. He interprets this in a way Lucretia probably didn’t intend him to, but which makes much more logical sense: make something up.

“No problem,” he says. How hard can it be to brainstorm a question on par with the name The Starblaster? “One top-notch advice column coming your way.”

*

Taako and Lup roll out of the journalism room as soon as Lucretia calls the meeting. Days when Lup’s insistence on participating in school culture doesn’t cut into their free time are Taako’s favourite, so even if they’re heading to the student lounge to talk about conjugating Dwarvish, Taako’s looking forward to chill out time.

“Hey, wait up!”

Correction: Taako _was_ looking forward to chill out time.

Magnus jogs through the otherwise empty library to catch up with them, grinning. “What are you two up to?” he asks. “No field hockey practice today, right? The basketball team doesn’t have anything either.”

Taako has no idea what’s happening right now. “We’re going to the student lounge,” Taako says. “To hang out.”

“Cool,” Magnus says, and just… keeps walking with them as they leave the library and turn down the poster-lined hallway towards the lounge.

“I’m going to help Lup with her Dwarvish homework,” Taako adds, after a moment, because maybe then Magnus will take a hint.

Instead, Magnus brightens, his smile widening. “Oh yeah,” he says. “You tested out of a bunch of language classes, right?”

That… is true. Taako has no idea how Magnus knows that, but yes, Taako and Lup are both very good at languages. They grew up travelling a lot and they’d picked stuff up. Taako’s been taking an AP language class in order to test out and get the credits every year since starting at Neverwinter High. He saved Elvish for last because he wanted to spend his senior year coasting as much as possible.

Taako glances at Lup, who shrugs. “Don’t know how you _know_ that, but yeah,” he says.

“Cool,” Magnus says. “I’m taking Elvish. It’s really hard.”

Taako gestures to his long, pointed ears. “Kind of got Elvish in the bag here, homie.”

“Oh yeah, of course.” Magnus laughs and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t want to assume, you know? But yeah, I get it.”

They walk into the student lounge. It’s still early enough that most other boarders are busy with a club or practice or something, so there are actually a couple couches free. None of the furniture is great quality, but with teenagers inhabiting the lounge pretty much twenty-four seven, that’s just the school being practical. The room is directly under the cafeteria, so everything smells like an unholy combination of grease, whatever the last meal was, and a lingering and perpetual whiff of table syrup. There’s a shelf full of board games and puzzles in the corner, most which are missing at least one piece, and a pool table donated by some well meaning alum in their sophomore year that has aged approximately ten years since its arrival.

Lup tosses her bag across the room, onto a free couch, before someone else can claim it. “Well, we’re going to work on Dwarvish,” she tells Magnus. “So…”

“I’ll do my Elvish homework.” Magnus sits on the far side of the couch and puts his backpack down. He takes out his textbook and binder and dutifully opens both.

Taako and Lup stand there and watch, then exchange a glance. Lup’s the one who’s had more experience with Magnus, as the one who’s kind of his friend, but even she looks baffled.

After a moment, she takes a seat on the other end of the couch. Taako makes a face at her, but fine. This is happening. They’re doing their homework with Magnus fucking Burnsides.

He sits between them, feeling crowded, and glances down at Magnus’s homework as Lup gets her stuff out.

It’s… not good.

“Boat’s an animate noun,” he says, before he can stop himself.

Magnus pauses, frowns down at his homework, and then looks up at Taako. “But it’s… not alive,” he says. “It’s a boat.”

“That’s not… that’s—seriously, this is Elvish III?” Taako snatches the textbook from Magnus’s hands, grumbling to himself as he flips through it. It’s a lot simpler than AP Elvish, but it still feels like Magnus should have gotten a handle on how _nouns_ work by now.

The chapter on animate versus inanimate nouns is pretty much just a list of nouns with very little explanation.

“Okay, this textbook is useless.” He tosses it onto the table. “Everything is arbitrary and nothing _really_ makes sense until you just fucking… remember it, but you’ll be better off if you don’t think of animate and inanimate as alive and not alive. Think of them more like… stuff that moves and stuff that doesn’t move. So a boat is animate because it moves. A rock isn’t because it doesn’t,” Taako says. “It’s more complicated than that, but you have to understand Elvish before you can really get how Elvish works, so that’s the best I can explain in Common.”

Magnus blinks at Taako and then slowly turns his head to look down at his homework. “Holy shit,” he says. “That… makes so much more _sense_.”

Taako rolls his eyes, but nods. “Yeah,” he says, and then points to one of Magnus’s painstakingly written out sentences. “Now what the fuck are you doing with your conjugation here, thug?”

Magnus frowns at the page. “I have no idea.”

The next time Taako looks up from Magnus’s homework it’s an hour later and they’ve finished his assignments for the next week and a half because Taako refused to stop working until he was sure Magnus understood that he couldn’t just keep using command statements to avoid conjugating verbs.

Taako, looking at the clock on the wall, sits back and then glances at Lup. “So the future conditional.”

Lup snorts and waves a hand. “I figured it out, I think,” she says. “I see how it is. You’d rather help your new friend than your sister.”

“He’s not—”

“I’m sure I needed more help,” Magnus says, laughing. “Sorry, Lup.” He gives his homework a proud look. “This is _great_ , Taako. Thank you.”

Taako’s confused about how this happened. “Yeah,” he says. “Don’t mention it. To anyone. Seriously.” He hasn’t even started on his own homework yet.

“Hey.” Lup hits Taako’s arm to get his attention and nods towards the pool table. It’s late enough now that the lounge is starting to get busy, which means there’s a game going on. Nobody at Neverwinter High is very _good_ at pool, but there’s a certain segment of the population that likes to pretend they are. They tend to be dudes and they tend to be loud. Today, it’s Maarvey and his annoying gang of losers.

Taako lets his eyes drift down to their shoes. “I don’t know. Motorcycle boots? I have a pair already.”

“They’ve got those jackets,” Lup says. “They’re not bad.”

“Do you _really_ want a jacket that says Hammerhead on the back?” Taako asks, making a face. “Someone might think you’re one of them. Or worse, dating one of them.”

“Taako, if you can’t transmute the patch into something passable then what the fuck are you even doing in AP Transmutation?” Lup asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

She has a point.

“Fuck it,” he says, getting to his feet. “Magnus, hold the couch. Lup and I are going shopping.”

“What—”

Taako and Lup bounce before Magnus can finish his question.

It’s been a little over two years. Most people at Neverwinter High are well aware that Taako and Lup are very, _very_ good at pool. It’s no longer a matter of running a game on their opponents to con them out of as much as they can get—it’s about choosing the stupidest targets they can and antagonizing them into a game everyone knows they’re definitely, _definitely_ going to lose.

“We’ve got next,” Taako says, leaning against the pool table. “Lulu and I are getting a bit out of practice. I mean, I see you need the practice too, but let’s all be realistic about what the best use of this resource is.”

Maarvey looks up from trying to line up his shot. “What did you just say to me?”

“Mm, I think he said you were bad at pool,” Lup says, leaning against Taako and resting her chin on his shoulder. “And that we’re better so you should give us the table.”

“I mean, I was going to wait for you to finish your game, but you know what? Lup’s right. You should really just give us the table.”

“Hey, you can’t talk to us like that,” Jerree says, taking a step towards them and brandishing his pool cue.

“Yeah,” says Little Jerry, puffing out his chest. “You can’t talk to us like that.”

Taako and Lup have dealt with people much worse than the Hammerheads and their stupid little club in their lives. It’s hard to find three teenagers in stupid jackets intimidating. Taako certainly doesn’t, and Taako’s not exactly known for rushing into danger. “I think I just did.”

“You want to take this outside?” Jerree asks. “We can take this outside, bud.”

“Is going outside going to prove you’re better at pool than us?” Taako asks. “I don’t think it _is_ . Why don’t we play a game?” He smirks. “We can even make the game a little more _interesting_ if you’re up for a wager.”

The Hammerheads hesitate. Taako’s smirk widens into a smile and he tilts his head, bats his eyelashes at Maarvey and his friends. “Hmm?”

If they say no, they’re admitting that Taako and Lup are better at pool. The Hammerheads aren’t the type of people who want to admit that anyone is better than they are. Not even when faced with an obvious loss.

“You want to play for money?” Maarvey asks. “Sure. We can play for money.”

“Oh, we’re not interested in your _money_.” Lup waves a dismissive hand. “If we win we get… your jackets.”

“Our jackets?” Jerree repeats, glancing back at Maarvey. There’s an edge of panic to his voice. “These are for Hammerheads _only_.”

Taako shrugs the shoulder Lup’s chin isn’t perched on. “Well, if you’re that sure you’re going to lose…”

That’s all it takes to push them over the edge. “Okay, you’re on,” Maarvey says. “But if _we_ win then we get—you have to do our homework. For the next month.”

Taako would agree to bet his first-born child on this game. He’s not worried. “For sure,” he says. “You win and we’ll do all your homework. Let’s rack them up and go, kemosabe.”

In the wild, outside of Neverwinter High, Taako and Lup conning people out of their shit via games of pool had been a survival tactic. Now that they’re older, with a roof over their head and food in their stomachs, it’s just fun. Most kids at school don’t know what it’s like to go without shit—Taako and Lup are just giving them a taste of the real world. They don’t do it to day students or boarders who are, you know, decent people, but people like the Hammerheads, who shove other kids around? Who make a point of intimidating younger and smaller students at school? They’re fair game. And the students who walk around dripping in designer goods when Taako and Lup get everything second or third hand? Yeah. They’ll clean them the fuck out.

Sometimes Taako feels like he’ll never be satisfied. He’s _hungry_ for things other people have, for their clothes and their fancy shoes and their expensive bags, things most of the boarders have and take for granted because to them that’s just the way the world _works_. Those are just things people have. That their parents buy them.

Taako wants them too, and experience tells him the only way he’ll ever get anything he wants is going out and taking it for himself.

He and Lup are resourceful. Taako has some _very_ nice kicks because of their games.

Little Jerry sets up the game and pats Maarvey and Jerree on the back. “You can do it, boys,” he says. “Show ‘em who’s boss!”

The faith he has in his friends would be cute if it wasn’t so sad. All five of them know exactly how this game is going to go. Taako stretches his arms over his head, making a show of getting ready, and grins at Lup. “Should they go first?”

Lup’s gaze flicks over Maarvey and Jerree, completely dismissive. “Sure,” she says. “They need the advantage.”

This isn’t the first time they’ve extorted the Hammerheads and it likely won’t be the last. They’ve never gone as big as their club jackets before, but Taako has a pair of boots from Jerree and they’ve taken their uniform shirts and ties before, just because they could.

Maarvey breaks and Taako watches the balls bounce around the table. After two years of pretending to be good at the game, you’d think Maarvey would improve—or at least realize he should try to do more than send balls flying around the table when he breaks—but Maarvey and his gang are all bluster. They play up their accents and act like they’re not the kids of Goldcliff bankers.

In a stroke of luck for Maarvey, the 12-ball rolls into the far corner pocket. Maarvey grins as he straightens up. “Looks like we get to go again,” he says, and then tries to find a shot that’ll let him sink another striped ball.

Taako isn’t worried.

Maarvey lines up and takes a shot. It knocks the fifteen ball off the opposite side of the table, but doesn’t manage to sink it. He shrugs, sniffing artfully. “Guess I should let you have a fighting chance.”

“So good of you.” Taako’s eyes the table, playing out possible shots in his mind. It’s definitely unintentional, because Maarvey’s not that good a player, but he’s left the cue ball in a bad position for Taako and Lup. It’s near the edge of the table, so it’ll be hard to approach from a good angle, and flush against a couple striped balls, but far from any solids.

If they were rank amateurs like the Hammerheads, this would be a throw away shot.

Lup taps a finger against Taako’s arm twice to signal that she’s got a plan and he searches the table for the 2-ball. It’s behind the 9-ball, but the shot’s not that bad otherwise, lined up near the center right pocket. “That works,” Taako says.

Taako lines up his shot and hits the cue ball into the striped ball—the 11—sitting directly in front of it and watches as it rolls into the 9 and the 9 taps the 2 into the pocket. The 9-ball hovers on the edge of the table, but doesn’t drop. It’d be easy for even a semi-decent player to sink both the 9 and 11 now, but Taako doesn’t plan on giving the Hammerheads the opportunity to try.

“Okay,” Taako says, repositioning himself for his second shot. “Let’s see if I need eight shots to do this.”

“Bragging isn’t very nice, Taako,” Lup says, mock-scolding and deeply amused.

“ _I’m_ not very nice.”

“True,” Lup agrees, and Taako takes his next shot, sinking the 5.

The game goes very quickly after that.

Taako has two jackets draped over his arm when he and Lup head back over to the couch. Lup’s got hers in hand. “I’ll have to come up with something else for the back,” she said, sitting again. “Black’s kind of cliche, don’t you think? What do you think about red?”

“A red leather jacket is very you,” Taako says, sitting between her and Magnus again.

Magnus is gaping at them, eyes shining with admiration. “That was so _cool_ ,” he says. “Where did you learn to _do_ that?”

Taako shrugs. “We had an interesting childhood,” he says, and then tosses Magnus Maarvey’s jacket, mostly because he doesn’t really _need_ two leather jackets. “Here you go, my dude. For keeping the couch warm.”

Magnus laughs as he takes the jacket. “You’re not going to give them back?”

“Fuck no. We won these fair and square.” Taako pats his jacket. “I’m going to bedazzle the _shit_ out of it. Mine now.”

Magnus glances at the Hammerheads, who are glaring at them from beside the pool table, jacketless. “They do kind of deserve it.”

“They absolutely do,” Lup agrees. “Taako, turn my jacket red for me.”

“Lup, you’re a wizard too,” Taako says, rolling his eyes at her. “You can handle colour changing.”

“I know I _can_ , but why would I when I’ve got the best transmutation wizard in the school for a brother?”

She has a point. Taako reaches into his tote bag for his wand and twirls it in his fingers before pointing it at her jacket, turning it red. “You’re welcome.”

Magnus makes another impressed noise beside Taako. Magnus seems to basically be the human embodiment of a dog—eager to please and easily swayed—Taako can see why he wanted the dog colum now, even if he can’t envision what the content would be. “Magic is so _cool_.”

“Only as cool as the person doing it.” Taako’s feeling benevolent, still riding the high of _thoroughly_ trouncing the Hammerheads. “You want a new colour too, big fella?”

“Really? Yeah, awesome!” Magnus stares down at his jacket for a long moment, like this is some kind of major life choice, and then glances at Lup’s jacket. “Um. Would you mind if I…?”

“Nah, it’s cool,” Lup says, pulling on her coat. It’s too big on her, but Lup makes the look work. “I know how it is. Everyone wants to be me.”

Taako turns Magnus’s jacket red too. “Not me,” he says, as Magnus ohs and ahs appropriately over his new threads. “Taako’s his own unique creation.”

“Taako’s just jealous he doesn’t look as good in red as I do,” Lup corrects, brushing invisible dust from her shoulder.

Taako snorts at that. “We’re identical.”

“Physically, maybe, but _spiritually_?”

It’s actually not a bad night, even with the unexpected addition of Magnus Burnsides.

*

Neverwinter High has outdated notions of gender and sexuality so there are separate buildings for the girls and boys dorms and they’re on opposite sides of the school quad. Taako and Lup hate it. Now that Taako has a single room, they don’t really have to pay attention to dorm regulations—who’s going to tell on them for sharing with Taako occasionally?—but Lup’s got practice in the morning so she heads to her own room and Taako and Magnus are stuck walking back to the boy’s dorms together after he follows Lup and Taako to dinner and then eats with them too.

Well, Taako is stuck with Magnus. Magnus doesn’t seem to view it quite the same way.

The air has a distinct chill to it and it’s getting dark, but there are still plenty of people outside on the quad, hanging on to the last vestiges of fall before the year really truly careens towards winter.

“I mean, I feel kind of bad, but those guys do pick on kids a lot,” Magnus says, stroking the leather of his newly red jacket.

“No point in feeling bad,” Taako says, shrugging. “They wouldn’t if they took your jacket. Besides, it’s not like they won’t have new jackets in a week. They’re loaded.”

“Really?” Magnus frowns at that. “I guess I always assumed they were on scholarship.”

“Nope,” Taako says, making a point of popping the p. “A scholarship student couldn’t get away with half the shit they pull. They’re just assholes who think pretending to be poor is cool. They’re from Goldcliff. Their parents are bankers or something. Don’t feel sorry for them.”

“Huh.” Magnus looks down at Taako. “I didn’t think you really paid attention to other people.”

Taako pauses. He _doesn’t_ pay attention to people, normally, but the Hammerheads annoy him. It’s not that he’s got a strong sense of justice about the bullying or whatever. He just doesn’t like it when people get away with shit he can’t. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, well. My buddy Avi was one of your roommates freshman year.”

Yep. That would definitely give Magnus a lot of insider information about how little attention Taako pays to other people. Avi had probably experienced the worst of Taako, what with the whole Pringles-not-getting-it thing. Lucas and Brad had been easy to antagonize because they were both the worst, but he’d almost felt bad about Avi.

“Been a long time since freshman year, my man,” Taako says. “People change. Grow. Self-actualize.”

Magnus laughs and sticks his hands in his pockets. “That’s true. I don’t think we’ve had a conversation since gym sophomore year and you definitely wouldn’t have helped me with my Elvish homework then.”

Taako has absolutely no memory of Magnus in sophomore gym, so he just nods because yes, sure. If Magnus says they had gym together, they probably did. “Coach Taylor doesn’t exactly bring out the best in me.”

“Coach Taylor’s cool,” Magnus says, a touch defensively. “I mean, I know his speeches are a little… corny sometimes, but he’s not bad.”

“Sure.” Taako pulls the door to the dorm building open. “See you at the next meeting.”

“Well, I’ll probably see you at the game on Sunday, right? You go to cheer for Lup?”

Taako definitely goes and dutifully sits in the stands for Lup. It’s not quite the same thing as cheering, but he nods. “You go to the field hockey games?”

For some reason, Magnus blushes. Taako’s eyebrows raise. “Uh, yeah,” Magnus says. “It’s… they’re a very good team. And my best friend plays. So. They deserve the support. Everyone goes to watch basketball, but no one watches field hockey and that doesn’t seem very fair. Women’s sports don’t get the attention they deserve.”

Taako tilts his head. “Or the players on women’s sports teams, am I right?”

Magnus’s blush deepens. “I’ll see you Sunday, Taako, bye! Have a good night!” he says, walking backwards, away from the conversation. The back of his foot hits the staircase and Magnus nearly falls, but catches himself and spins on his heel, not-quite-running up the stairs and away from Taako.

Taako hopes, for the sake of his own sanity, that the field hockey player Magnus has a crush on isn’t his sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for giving the first chapter of this fic such a great reception. It means a lot! I'm on tumblr if y'all want to talk about field hockey, explain pool to me (thank you to the anon who did this), or have in-depth discussions about Taako's wardrobe. 
> 
> The next chapter will be up on Thursday and introduces the back door coffee shop au portion of this fic.
> 
> Please leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed this chapter!


	3. Spike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for staying with me through in depth discussions of nouns. The next update will be out on Tuesday!

_ Spike: To kill a story.  _

*

Taako wakes up late because it’s Saturday. It occurs to him, staring at the sliver of blue sky he can just see through the window from where he lies in his bed, that Tuesday and Thursday mornings are also going to start late from now on. He should have gotten himself kicked out of a class sooner.

Gym, for example. You’d think Coach Taylor would have given up by now.

Taako forces himself up, checks the time, and gets dressed in his own clothes. Not being forced into a uniform is one of the best parts of the weekend. Today this means wearing black leggings and a cornflower blue tunic with batwing sleeves, cinched in at the waist by a heavily embroidered belt. He uses a spell to peel the Hammerhead patch off the back of his new jacket and pulls it on, then slips his feet into his leopard print boots. His hair goes up in a messy bun because it’s still Saturday—there’s only so much effort he can be expected to exert.

Taako checks the mirror to make sure he looks as good as he thinks he does, then grabs his bag and heads out.

The only thing worse than playing team sports is watching team practice, so on weekends when Lup has field hockey, Taako bothers Ren at work instead. Lup swings by for coffee and a snack when she finishes up and when Ren’s shift ends they all walk back to school together to do homework or go to Ren’s house or find something better to do—this category tends to feature thrift stores heavily.

Ren’s family is well off enough to enroll her in Neverwinter High which means she doesn’t _need_ to work, but Ren’s practical and business-savvy and as part of her bid to eventually rule Neverwinter’s restaurant industry, she’s got a job as a barista. It’s not an exact parallel, but she makes a decent wage and gets tips, so she’s definitely better off than Taako and Lup when it comes to spending money.

Taako isn’t _quite_ sure how he ended up making friends with one of the most sensible teenagers he’s ever met. It probably has something to do with the cheddar cheese and jalapeno muffins he made in their first ever home ec class together. They were bomb as fuck and led to Ren asking him for a copy of literally every recipe he made that semester—and also to Taako’s bitter rivalry with Rick.

The Davy Lamp, where Ren works, is the kind of coffee shop with baristas so cool they intimidate their customers into ordering simple drinks in an effort to seem sophisticated. It’s great for Taako, because even though their pastries are mass produced and universally terrible, the coffee is decent and Ren sneaks him freebies. Plus, Ren getting a gig working at The Davy Lamp is kind of a social coup. It reflects well on Taako that Ren is the only high schooler currently employed at the cafe.

Like the newspaper’s headquarters, The Davy Lamp’s furniture is all mismatched and secondhand. Unlike newspaper HQ, The Davy Lamp has very deliberately gone for an indie rom com directed by fantasy Wes Anderson vibe. It’s calculated to be charming and shabby-chic. The shop’s wooden floors and counters painstakingly painted black, but intentionally scuffed to evoke an edgy, black box theatre look. An upright piano no one with any sense ever tries to play completes this aesthetic, and the walls play host to a mishmash of buyable paintings by local, desperate artists.

Taako hates and loves the decor in equal measure. The Davy Lamp is a hot mess of self-conscious aloofness and affected kitsch. It’s awful and takes itself way too seriously. But Greg Grimmaldis works at the closest fantasy Starbucks and fuck if Taako’s going to let that loser make him a pumpkin spice latte. 

If nothing else, The Davy Lamp is committed to its _Look_ and that’s something Taako appreciates, even if he doesn’t strictly approve of said Look.

Taako makes a beeline for his favourite chair as soon as he walks in. It’s an old wingback done up in faded floral velvet and one of the most comfortable things Taako’s ever experienced—soft, cozy, and not situated in a way that encourages anyone to talk to him once he’s settled in. There’s a side table for his coffee, but no chair opposite him. Taako dumps his bag on the chair and then turns to the counter so he can weedle a free drink out of Ren.

It’s mid-afternoon on a Saturday, so the shop’s not busy. Most kids from school tend to head to the fantasy Starbucks if they’re after caffeine. The few people who are around are nursing cups of black coffee, stooped over notebooks, looking pained and serious about their probably very bad writing. It’s pretentious as all hell.

Ren’s behind the counter in an apron when Taako saunters up, drying cups pulled from the washing machine.

“Good,” she says. “You’re here. Nobody else ever orders the seasonal stuff and I’m training today.”

“That’s because they think they’re too cool for sugar.” Taako leans against the counter. “You’ve got a newbie?”

Ren gestures towards the floor behind the espresso machine, which makes a lot more sense when her new coworker stands up, a chipped coffee cup in his hand and sheepish expression on his extremely handsome face.

He’s human. Black, with long dreads that are pulled into a much neater bun than Taako’s. The bun does a good job of showing off both the killer skull earrings the guy’s wearing and the fact that he got cheekbones to die for. He’s made up all low-key goth in a black vest and button-up, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, just the slightest smudge of gold eyeliner around his big brown eyes. The overall effect is somewhat spoiled by the fact that he’s wearing one of The Davy Lamp’s uniform red aprons, the bottom of which is soaked with coffee and dripping onto his worn oxfords.

“My apologies,” hot barista boy says, in a strangled accent that is—Cockney, maybe? Taako’s ears twitch. There’s something weird about the accent that he can’t quite place. “My hand slipped.” He wipes his hand off on the dry upper half of his apron and holds it out to Taako. “I’m Kravitz.”

“Taako,” Taako says, taking Kravitz’s hand and deciding he approves of this new hire and his snappy dressing. He glances down at the damaged mug Kravitz is holding. “You need some help with that, stud?”

Kravitz flushes ever so slightly—somehow, it’s _much_ more satisfying than flustering Barold from the newspaper. Definitely better than making Magnus Burnsides literally run away from him. “I think I’ve got it,” Kravitz says, looking down at the cup. He cocks his head and whistles a short tune. 

The cup mends in his hand.

Taako likes an opportunity to show off, but he also likes being surprised. He laughs as he lets go of Kravitz, turning back to Ren. “You’ve got a bard on staff.”

“Apparently we do, yes,” Ren agrees, giving the mug an impressed look.

“I started at the Neverwinter Conservatory in September,” Kravitz says, offering the cup to Ren. “Mending’s just a cantrip, but it comes in handy.”

She takes it and sticks it in the dishwasher. “You’d think we’d get more interest from bards, given how many writers spend their days here hoping someone will ask what they’re working on. What can we get for you, Taako?”

“Pumpkin spice latte,” Taako says. “Something easy for your new boy.”

Kravitz tentatively picks up another mug. He looks at the sparse selection of syrups behind the bar, then back at Ren. “We make those?”

“Pretty much only for Taako.”

“Better do your best, fella. I’m not going to be gentle just because it’s your first time,” Taako says, and grins wide when Kravitz flushes deeper because _hello,_ he’s found his new favourite Saturday activity. He’s got maybe twenty minutes before Lup shows up and work to do in that time, since he spent his Friday night inexplicably helping Magnus with his Elvish homework, but this seems like a great way to procrastinate.

Taako’s flirting is interrupted by his stone of farspeech ringing. He steps away from the counter to answer it, because the only person it could be is Lup and there isn’t really a point to Lup calling him when she’ll be at the coffee shop herself soon unless something’s wrong.

“Lup?”

“Hey. Are you at The Davy Lamp?” Taako can hear the sound of the field hockey team laughing in the background. Practice must have just ended.

“Yeah, of course,” he says. “What’s up?”

“Raincheck on doing journalism homework? I’ve got some team shit to do.”

Taako frowns because the phrasing might imply that it’s stuff Lup’s not into, but the sound of everyone having a grand old time behind her suggests otherwise. “Team shit?”

“Bonding,” Lup says. “Team pizza party. I can blow it off if you want me to.”

Taako is an asshole, but he’s self-aware enough to realize that telling Lup he doesn’t want her to go for pizza with her teammates isn’t the way to endear himself to her. “No,” he says. “Go get pizza. It’s just journalism. It can wait. It’s not like it’s going to be _hard_.”

“Tonight after dinner?” Lup offers. “We’ll breeze through it.”

“Natch.” Taako has other shit he can work on, obviously. Elvish still. And he’s got to write his advice column, which sounds more interesting than whatever assignment Jenkins gave them. “I’ve got a pumpkin spice latte waiting for me. Go delight the team with your presence.”

“Easy as breathing.” There’s a smile in Lup’s voice. At least he’s made her happy by not whining about her cancelling their plans last minute. “See you tonight, babe.”

“Yeah.” The stone in Taako’s hand goes dark when Lup ends the call and he turns back to the counter, plastering a bright smile onto his face because he definitely just put on more of a show than was necessary for The Davy Lamp on a Saturday. “So how much?”

Ren looks up from guiding Kravitz through steaming the milk, although they’ve both definitely been eavesdropping. They’re looking at the milk way too seriously to _not_ have listened in on his entire conversation. “On the house,” Ren says. “It might be bad.”

Kravitz seems like he’s about to protest this, but then he looks into the little metal jug of milk in his hand. “Yeah, I’m still getting used to this,” he agrees as he pulls it off the steam wand.

“Cover it with enough whipped cream and cha’boy won’t know the difference.” Taako leans against the bar, watching as Kravitz pours the milk onto the espresso and syrup mix in the bottom of his cup and then grabs the whipped cream.

Kravitz tops the drink and Ren shake some cinnamon over it, then they slide the mug across the bar to Taako. 

“Tell me what you think?” Kravitz asks, with a small, closed-mouthed smile playing over his lips.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” Taako says, raising the drink to his lips. It’s hot and creamy—overly sweet with a heavy hit of artificial pumpkin extract. The cinnamon on top makes it smell more authentic than it tastes.

Taako hums and takes another sip.

Kravitz looks endearingly hopeful.

If Taako really wanted to critique the drink, he’d point out that the espresso’s got a distinctly burnt flavour—definitely overdrawn—and that the milk is too bubbly, poorly steamed beneath the whipped cream, which hides the texture from his eyes, but can’t fool Taako’s palate.

He can tell that Kravitz is new and not very good at this yet.

Kravitz is also cute and The Davy Lamp is Taako’s favourite coffee shop. He’s not going to burn his bridges. “It’s disgusting,” he says, grinning and waiting for Kravitz’s face to fall before continuing. “Exactly what a pumpkin spice latte should be.”

Ren rolls her eyes and pats Kravitz on the back. “Okay, let’s work on the rest of the seasonal menu. If Taako’s lucky he can get those practice drinks too, but only if he’s good and sits and does his homework quietly and doesn’t make a nuisance of himself.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Taako says, throwing Ren a mock salute. “I have wisdom to impart to the masses anyway.”

Taako carries his drink over to his chair and table and takes his seat. Writing an advice column can’t be hard. All he needs is a question that sounds like something someone might actually ask to bullshit an answer to.

Taako pulls a notebook and a pen from his bag. He settles in with the book on his lap, his pen hovering above a blank page. This is easy. All he needs is a question—something frivolous, but creative. Something people will enjoy reading about.

It probably doesn’t even need to be realistic. Lucretia more or less knows he’s making it up. She’d practically told him to. Taako isn’t going to let himself be intimidated by a sheet of paper or think too hard about how his sister cancelled plans with him so she could go to a _pizza party_ because “team bonding” is apparently a thing she cares about now.

Taako looks up from his notebook at Ren, supervising Kravitz wiping down the bar. “Hey Ren?”

“What did I say about only getting more free drinks if you did your homework quietly?”

“I need a question if I’m going to give people advice,” he says. “Ren, you can’t expect me to just _make something up_.”

“Taako, I don’t _need_ advice from your newspaper column,” Ren says. “I’m good.”

“Krav?”

Kravitz looks startled by the use of the nickname. “Uh, I don’t really have any questions either, unless you can tell me how many shots of espresso go in a large drink?”

“Two unless it’s an Americano, then it’s three,” Taako says. “This isn’t the kind of existential advice I’m here to give.”

“Shouldn’t there be… people writing letters for you to answer?” Kravitz asks. “With real problems?”

“ _Next time_ , sure, but this is the first advice column from yours truly.” Taako taps his pen against his notebook. “A once in a lifetime opportunity before it takes off.”

Kravitz just shrugs in response. It’s a good thing he’s pretty.

“I’ve got one,” Ren says, after a moment. “Tell me what boys think is going to happen when they try to ask out someone who’s paid to be nice to them. Do they think I tell them to have a nice day because I want them? If so, they’re _very_ wrong.”

“Not really a question, but high-five, queer solidarity, for sure,” Taako says, casting mage hand and sending it over to the bar so he doesn’t have to get up to make good on the offer. Ren laughs and high-fives the glowing purple hand. Taako lets it dissipate. Ren probably wasn’t making a serious suggestion, but it does have potential.

“Huh,” he says, putting his pen to paper. “Actually, I think I can work with that.”

*

Lup comes to his dorm later, all apologetic, with a pizza in hand.

“I thought you and Ren were worried about my sodium intake,” Taako says, leaning against the door frame and giving the bribe pizza a suspicious look. At least Lup knows him well. She knows that he’s—for lack of a better word—salty over being ditched.

“I never said anything about salt. I told her you were eating pre-packaged junk. You don’t rehydrate this pizza with hot water. You just eat it. It’s fresh.”

“What kind?” Taako asks, eying the box. It _does_ smell good, and the field hockey team went to the _classy_ pizza place that does artisanal crusts—all wonky and misshapen and cooked in a wood-fired oven—not fantasy Pizza Hut.

“What do you take me for? Pepperoni and pineapple,” Lup says. “It’s disgusting and unnatural and the server looked physically pained taking my order, but you’re my brother and I love you enough to get you your weird pizza.”

Taako takes the pizza because an elf can’t live on pumpkin spice lattes alone. “You’re forgiven,” he says, kicking clothes out of the way as he wades across his room to the bed. “Are we going to get through the correspondence crap now? I saved it just for you.”

Taako had flipped through the booklet of assignments Lucretia handed out while he was at The Davy Lamp. He’d even contemplated starting it, but working on his advice column was much more interesting. He doubts anyone who _needs_ his advice will follow it, but he’s… actually pretty pleased with what he’s written. He hasn’t done too bad a job producing some good, old fashioned tough love.

“I’m sure you had my best interests at heart,” Lup says, rolling her eyes and following Taako down the hall, towards the common room.

The dorm common areas are smaller than the student lounge and lack the games and pool table. They’re geared towards studying, with a long row of desks pushed against the far wall and round tables set up for groups of three or four studing the room. There’s a token kitchen set up—if you consider a communal fridge and a kettle a kitchen, which Taako does not—and a single couch. Taako wouldn’t sit on the couch if you paid him to. It’s always ever so slightly sticky. Once, Taako saw someone take their gum and stick it between the cushions. He’s not putting his already secondhand, hard worn clothes through that.

Taako drops his pizza onto an empty table and takes a seat. Lup pulls out the chair next to him and pulls out her assignment booklet. Taako pulls out a slice of his _perfectly delicious, thank you Lup_ pepperoni and pineapple pizza and waits, because he’s looked at the first set of readings and assignments already. Lup probably hasn’t.

“Uh, babe?”

Taako takes a bite of his pizza, humming inquiringly.

“What the fuck?” Lup looks up from reading through the first unit of the course. “Are they… serious? The course starts with a unit on _typography_?”

“I guess they think it’s _crucial_ to us understanding how a newspaper works,” Taako says, and rolls his eyes. “I thought I understood how big a waste of our time this course would be, but I was _wrong_. It’s a special torture device designed for students who aren’t meant to be caged in by the boundaries set by society.”

“Is that code for making Rick cry now?” Lup asks. She skims the first page of reading in the booklet and then groans, loudly, and slumps forward on the table. “Taako, I don’t even _need_ this course.”

“Overachiever.” Taako takes another bite of pizza as he fishes out his own coursepack from his bag. “Look, I’m sure for some people the difference between serif and sans-serif and when to use them is _riveting_ , like—” Taako cuts himself off because he sees the perfect example of such a person, dressed in jeans and plain t-shirt, with his nerdy, nerdy glasses on his face. “Like him.”

Taako raises an arm, waving at Barry. “Hey!” He definitely doesn’t _need_ to shout because the common room isn’t that big, but he does anyway. “Barold, come here!”

Barry is already blushing and the conversation hasn’t even started yet. He’s really not prepared for them. He walks over to their table after glancing around the room like maybe there’s another Barold Taako was yelling at. “You. Um. Yes?”

“Just who we wanted to see, my man,” Taako says, leaning his chin on his hand and smiling up at Barry. “We’re doing our journalism homework. Sit. Tell me. Why the fuck should I care about typography?”

Barry has an Arcane Science IV textbook and a stack of notes tucked under one arm. He looks like a man ready to do some heavy duty studying of his own, not on behalf of two elves he barely knows.

He sits anyway, without Taako even having to try and bribe him with pizza. “Actually it’s more interesting than it sounds,” Barry says, pushing his glasses up his nose. “You notice fonts a lot more once you learn about typography and design and it’s—I mean, the two of you obviously have an eye for aesthetics, right?”

Lup laughs at that. “Are you calling us cute?”

Barry’s whole face goes red. “I—well… even just objectively speaking you’re—I mean, I don’t want to… offend you, or anything, but I—”

“No worries. We’re very good looking, yes. This is an objective fact,” Taako agrees, and gestures with the remains of his slice of pizza. “Go on.”

“Well, typography at its core is about aesthetics,” Barry says. “So some people just… get the way fonts work together because they understand what’s pleasing to the eye, but for people like me, who aren’t really… experts at that sort of thing, the rules and conventions of typography help us fake it. Rules like don’t use more than three fonts and three sizes of font on a single page. It’s also about making sure that what you write is read the way you want it to be. Partially making sure it’s legible, but also making the words… flow, I guess. Arranging them so they’re read in the order you want them to be read. Which means, you know, don’t put your headline at the bottom of the page. Stuff like that.”

Taako weighs his options and then pushes his pizza closer to Barry. “Take a slice, Barold,” he says. “You’re joining our study group. If you’re this passionate about typography for free, let’s see what you whip out when there’s food on the line.”

Barry lets out a startled laugh and actually seems to relax as he reaches for a slice of pizza. “Thanks,” he says. “Is this… pepperoni and pineapple?”

“You got a problem with pepperoni and pineapple, bubelah?” Taako asks, raising an eyebrow and taking a pointed bite from the nearly-finished slice in his hand.

“No, actually it’s one of my favourites.” Barry smiles at Taako, then at Lup, although there’s still a faint flush to his pasty white cheeks when he looks at her. “Lucretia and Angus think it’s gross. They never let me order it on layout days. I’ve never actually met other people who like it?”

“Oh, not me. It’s disgusting. For sure,” Lup says, shaking her head. “But Taako is a weird garbage boy when it comes to junk food.” She shoves her booklet closer to Barry as he starts eating his slice of pizza, apparently unconcerned with it being garbage boy food. “Explain serif versus sans-serif. How do you remember which is which?”

“Sure.” Barry grabs his pen with his non-pizza hand and bends over the booklet with Lup. “It’s easy once someone explains it to you. The letters with lots of little bits hanging off them are serif. The ones without it are _sans_ those bits, uh, without them, so they’re sans-serif. Simple.”

It is, actually. Boring as all hell, but simple. Taako drops his crust back in the pizza box and reaches for another slice, picking off a piece of pineapple to pop in his mouth. His eyes flick down to the next question on the homework assignment. “Okay,” Taako says. “Let’s move on. I’ll start with the obvious question on everyone’s mind—what the fuck is kerning?”

Barry laughs and solidifies himself in Taako’s mind as the least bad of all the new nerds in his life.

*

Saturday may have been spent avoiding field hockey practice, but Taako can’t avoid the game. Lup is one of the team’s best players which at least means Taako gets to bask in her reflected glory. It’s cold out, so Taako throws a large scarf on over his newly acquired, to-be-bedazzled leather jacket, and bundles up in an oversized sweater and thick leggings before setting out to watch the game. 

Taako’s stuffed his tote bag full of chips. He has a full bottle of fantasy Coke Zero. He’s got magazines with him in case the game gets boring—and it definitely, definitely will, this isn’t Taako’s first rodeo—and his sunglasses on because the autumn sun is blazing, even if it’s doing absolutely nothing to warm the crisp air or the metal bleachers Taako has to spend the next hour and a half of his life perched on.

Neverwinter High has a nice playing field, one with covered stands and everything, in case it rains. As soon as he makes his way to his usual top corner seat, leaning back against the wall of the cement overhang that keeps the rain off when it’s wet out, he casts Prestidigitation to warm the bench, then pulls out a bag of chips. They’re salt and pepper kettle chips, because it’s the closest thing he can get to good chips without access to a deep fryer and a whack of potatoes.

Taako has only just opened the bag and startled to mentally prepare himself to zone out when Magnus drops down beside him, rattling the whole top row of the bleachers.

“Why are you all the way up here in the nosebleeds? Don’t you want to get in on the action?” Magnus asks, grinning at Taako. He looks out at the field, where the players are stretching and running drills and then mirrors Taako’s position, leaning back against the wall. “I guess you _can_ see everything from up here. The wall’s pretty nice too. I never thought of that before. My back always gets sore during the game. I sit at the front, usually. So I can lean against the railing.”

Taako pops a chip into his mouth. He’s got no idea what the rules of field hockey actually are, but cheering when the ball goes in the other team’s net is a safe bet, and that’s something he can see and react to just fine from the top of the bleachers.

“The Rockport team is supposed to be really good, right? It was an away game last year so I didn’t see them play, but I know we lost. Only barely though. I bet we’ll do better this year. I mean, we’ve got a better captain, right?” Magnus’s eyes drift to the field again and focus in on Julia Waxmen, captain of the field hockey team, president of the student council, and one of the most popular girls in school. Even _Taako_ doesn’t really dislike her, and Taako’s very good at finding reasons to dislike people.

Taako eats another chip because Magnus’s enthusiasm for the field hockey team doesn’t seem to _need_ his input.

“I know Julia’s nervous about being captain, you know? Because it’s a lot of pressure, especially when she’s also student president, but like… I think she’s doing a _great_ job. She’s so _smart_.”

“Are you two dating?” Taako asks, reaching for his Coke.

Magnus goes bright red and turns to gape at Taako with a level of incredulity more on par with Taako suggesting Magnus was dating Principal Davenport than a girl currently withstanding a very enthusiastic pat on the back from Lup’s favourite and largest teammate, Killian, with nary a flinch.

“I—that’s—no,” Magnus stutters. “No, no, no, that’s—no. It’s—Carey. My best friend. She’s also on the team so I just… I know stuff. About the team. Not Julia specifically because that would be really creepy. I just think the _whole team_ is really great and good and I’m not—” He breaks off into a round of high-pitched, slightly manic laughter.

Taako’s eyebrows raise. “Sure,” he says. “If you say so, my dude. You want a chip?” He holds out the bag and Magnus sticks his hand into it, pulling out a handful of chips and stuffing all of them into his mouth at once. He turns his eyes back to the field, obviously praying that the conversation is over. Taako decides to let him live, for now. If only for the sake of saving all his snacks from being devoured on him. They’re supposed to be just for him and they’re supposed to last the whole game.

On the field, the ref blows their whistle and the game starts. Taako reaches into his tote for a magazine to keep him company until halftime and is interrupted by another set of uninvited interlopers into his quiet Sunday game time.

“Hello, sirs!” Angus sits on the row of bleachers in front of Taako and Magnus, smiling up at them. He’s dressed in an outfit that’s almost identical to his school uniform, except it’s made of brown tweed and he’s got a plaid caplet draped over his shoulders like some old-timey detective. Taako has no idea what kind of parents buy their tiny child tweed suits and plaid capes, but it’s no wonder he’s spending his weekend at school.

Barry is with him. In a bold move, he’s added a fleece-lined jean jacket to his jeans-and-white-tee ensemble. “Hey,” he says. “Angus spotted you two sitting up here. Mind if we join?”

“No, of course not,” Magnus says, before Taako can even open his mouth. “Taako’s got chips.”

Taako resigns himself to running out of snacks and pulls out a second bag of chips—jalapeno cheddar. He hands the salt and pepper chips to Barry. Barry doesn’t look like the kind of boy who can handle his jalapenos.

Taako opens the second bag. “I’m not sharing my drink with you,” he tells them. “Next time, come prepared.”

Magnus grins and steals a jalapeno cheddar chip from his bag. “Yes, mom.”

Taako’s eyes narrow, but Magnus is turning to Barry to try and engage him in an enthusiastic discussion on The Magnificence of Julia Waxmen. And there’s just—something about Magnus Burnsides that makes Taako think “ _mom_ ” wasn’t meant to be a jab at his sexuality.

Angus McDonald is studying him, when Taako looks away from Magnus. Taako stares the kid down, eyebrows raising. “What’s up, pumpkin?”

“You brought a lot of activities, sir,” Angus points out, glancing at Taako’s tote bag, propped against the wall beside him. “Magazines?”

“Look, just because I love and support my sister doesn’t mean I love field hockey,” Taako says. “I’m gracing the game with my physical—”

He’s cut off my Magnus leaping to his feet beside him and yelling, _loudly_ , as he throws his arms in the air. “NEVERWINTER HIGH RULES!” Magnus pumps a fist. “How do you like _that_ Rockport? Suck it! You go, Carey! Get them, Lizard-girl!”

On the field, Carey Fangbattle is laughing and pointing at Magnus in the stands as her teammates pat her on the back.

“Did we get a point?” Taako asks, tilting his head up to look at Magnus.

“Fuck yeah!” Magnus sits down again and glances at Angus. “Uh, I mean—heck yeah,” he says. “Carey killed it. Right between the goalie’s legs!”

“You can swear around me, sir,” Angus says. “I’m in _high school_. I see much worse things carved into my desk every day in class.”

“Yeah, but you’re…” Magnus gestures at Angus, lowering his voice like maybe the rest of the people in the stands haven’t noticed yet. “Little.”

“I’m ten,” Angus says, as if this will dissuade anyone from thinking of him as little.

“That’s pretty little,” Magnus says, making an apologetic face. “I mean, I’m sure you’re like… also a prodigy and stuff, but… you know.”

“You’re a child.” Taako offers Angus his bag of chips. “Jalapeno cheddar?”

“Thank you, sir,” Angus says, taking a single chip from the bag, the way a reasonable person should.

“I mean, just because you’re little doesn’t mean I think you can’t do stuff!” Magnus says. “Or that we can’t be, you know, friendly. I think that’s fine. Taako, you think that’s fine too, right?”

Taako turns to stare Magnus down because how did _he_ get pulled into this?

Magnus meets his eyes for make half a second before looking back at Angus, nodding happy. “Taako thinks it’s fine too.”

“ _Taako_ thinks—” There’s another round of cheering from the people around them, Barry included, and Taako looks back out on the field. Lup has her arms and stick in the air and is running around by the goal so he cups his hands around his mouth and does his best impression of someone who’s been watching the game. “Yeah, Lulu! Kick their fucking asses!” he yells, and grins when heads whip around to glare at him.

In front of him, Angus muffles a giggle.

Lup, as she jogs by the stands, shoots finger guns and a wink in the general direction of their party. Barry is sitting in the perfect position to receive the full brunt of the wink and for Taako to have a _very_ clear view of the way his face goes bright, bright red.

Taako snorts and looks down at Angus. “Boys. Am I right, Agnes?”

Angus blinks up at Taako from behind his glasses. “That’s... not my name, sir.”

“Eat another chip, pumpkin,” Taako says, patting the top of the kid’s head. 

He turns his attention back to the field as Angus helps himself to another. They’re up two-nothing, which is definitely a good start when they’re only fifteen minutes into the game. Taako’s not sure Magnus was right about Rockport’s team being good, given the way things are looking right now, but he’s willing to believe that the Neverwinter High field hockey crew are just head and shoulders above everyone else. That’s very Lup, honestly, to end up on a team of awesome, hyper-competent women ready to throw down with anyone who steps to them.

Magnus spills Taako’s salt and pepper chips all over Barry and Taako reaches into his tote for his last bag—barbeque—opening it and passing it to Barry after shooting Magnus a disapproving look. Taako being up in the bleachers with these chucklefucks sounds about right too.

*

Taako’s meetings with Merle aren’t a regular thing, exactly, but they’re not _ir_ regular either, and making Rick cry has set him up for a new volley of sessions. Taako shows up a week after the inciting incident and slumps into one of Merle’s chairs. “I don’t know what this is supposed to be checking,” he says, before Merle can even get a greeting in. “I’m not _in_ his class anymore. What do people think I’m going to do? Stalk him? I don’t give a fuck about Rick.”

Merle’s eyebrows raise. “What did they make in class this week?” he asks.

Taako hesitates. He’d like to pretend he doesn’t know. He’d like to pretend the world is a better place with better teachers, where one of the most prestigious schools on the _continent_ took the concept of Cooking and Baking II seriously. “Fruit and dip. He made them slice up fruit and mix fucking yoghurt and fantasy Cool Whip together. How is he getting _paid_ for this? Has the school checked his credentials? Is he even really a teacher? They didn’t even use real whipped cream, Merle.”

“What would you have made today, if you were still in the class?” Merle asks.

Taako’s been thinking about it since lunch, since he rolled up after gym and Ren told him that Rick had the class _mixing yoghurt and whipped topping_ like it was real cooking and not something you taught an eight-year-old to do.

“Transmute the whipped topping into something else or get rid of it. It’s chemical garbage,” Taako says, after a half second of resistance. He knows he’s rising to Merle’s bait, but _fuck_. “Don’t get me wrong. I _like_ chemical garbage, but not when I could be eating whipped cream instead. It depends on the fruit you’re handed, but they had strawberries today because Rick doesn’t want anyone learning actual knife skills in his class either. You could do a strawberry caprese salad—make a balsamic reduction and drizzle it over strawberries with goat’s cheese transmuted out of the whipped crap and some torn up basil. Or turn it into a bruschetta, even, if you had some baguette to slice and toast. If you need to go sweeter, then I’d do a strawberry-rhubarb salad with some mint, maybe some roasted hazelnuts? That would be nice. All you’d need to dress it would be some sugar and lemon juice, maybe some Cointreau if you felt like making it fancier. Fuck, just make a strawberry vinaigrette and toss it on some spinach with some sliced almonds and green apple. Make _jam_. Literally all you need is strawberries, sugar, and a little bit of water. That’s all. Put it in a pot and boil. Teach these kids about properly sterilizing their shit before jarring anything so it doesn’t give everyone botulism. This isn’t _hard_.”

Merle’s eyebrows are raised as he sits there, watching Taako rant. “Sounds good,” he says. “I couldn’t have thought of any of that. I’d just eat the strawberries as is. Maybe with some chocolate. I’m sure your classmates were disappointed you weren’t in class.”

“Yeah, well. Taako’s used to people being jealous, my man. Rick’s nothing new.” Taako crosses his arms over his chest and looks out Merle’s window. “Are we done here?”

“How are you enjoying journalism so far?” Taako guesses that’s Merle’s way of saying no, not done at all. For all Merle plays into his hippie cleric persona, he’s sharper than he lets on. Maybe that’s what happens when you go through whatever shit means you’re down both an arm and an eye and perpetually dress like you’re leaving early to head to the beach. Neverwinter High’s one shoe rule might be no open toes, but Taako’s never seen Merle in anything but sandals. Often with socks, which is distressing because you can tell Merle’s not making a deliberate stylistic choice—his feet are just cold and he thinks socks, and not different footwear, are the answer.

Taako narrows his eyes, but just Merle sits there, sedately, looking extraordinarily chill. If there’s any teacher at the school who buys from Pringles it’s _definitely_ Merle. “Okay, if you’re really going to pull this counseling stuff on me today. It’s—fine, I guess. It’s better than home ec. It’s not exactly the most interesting stuff in the world, but it’s passable.”

“Yeah? What are you learning about so far?”

“Are you checking to make sure I’m doing my homework? Who do you take me for, Merle?”

Merle laughs. “Nah,” he says. “Swear to Pan I’m not patronizing you, kid. You know my office has a Zone of Truth policy. I honestly just don’t have a clue what you could be studying.”

Sometimes Merle’s Zone of Truth policy gets literal. Taako really, really hates it. “The first unit was all typography,” he says. “It’s _riveting_. Do you know what kerning is?”

Merle shakes his head.

“Lucky you.”

Merle chuckles because Merle has good taste and thinks Taako’s funny. Taako knows Merle’s a professional, even if he doesn’t act like it most of the time, that he probably has a rapport with most students who get sent to his office, but still. Taako can’t help it. He likes him.

He’d never, ever tell Merle that, but it’s true. For a gross old man, he’s not so bad.

“What sort of thing are you writing about?” Merle asks. “Food?”

“How would anyone at this school benefit from my wisdom? We don’t even get access to hot plates and rice cookers. I’m doing an advice column,” Taako says.

Merle is silent for a long, long moment. “Advice,” he repeats.

Taako hums in agreement.

“Advice on… fashion?”

Taako pauses because that’s actually not a bad idea, but it’s also not what he’s doing. “Nope,” he says. “You know, an advice column. Like Dear Abby, but newer. An advice column for the modern era. Taking your questions and transmuting them, alchemy like, into wisdom. That’s Taako’s new bag.”

Merle, Taako’s on-again, off-again counselor, looks physically pained by this news. “And Lucretia agreed to this?”

“Oh yeah, she was all for it,” Taako says, although it’s maybe a bit of an exaggeration. “I’ll say this for Lucretia, she knows how to give the people what they want.”

*

Taako hands Lucretia his first column on a single sheet of notebook paper, folded in quarters. He edited as he wrote so there are words crossed out, sentences added in the margins, and his handwriting could, generously, be described as laissez-faire. He still feels pretty good about the column. He’s got some grade-A wisdom to share.

Taako takes a seat on what is now his, Lup, and Magnus’s side of the table after turning over his column and watches as Lucretia shuffles through the papers in her hands. She takes her seat at the head of the table, eyes still on the papers in her hand.

“Lup’s game was yesterday so she’s got an extension on her column,” she says. Taako notices that she’s flipped through the whole pile like she was checking all their work, but still managed to land on Taako’s column. “Thank you everyone else for getting yours in. Barry says he helped you with your first set of assignments?”

Technically, this is true. Taako still pulls a face. “I mean, he was _there_ when we did them.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t like anyone needed tutoring. We just talked about the course content,” Barry says. “Typography’s not super interesting or… necessary, probably, for most people.”

Barry is definitely Taako’s favourite nerd.

Lucretia hums without looking up from Taako’s column. “As long as everyone gets their work in on time.”

Lup kicks Taako’s stool and he glances at her as she scrawls something in the upper corner of her notebook— _what did you write about?_

Taako’s glad he’s not the only one who’s noticed that Lucretia’s paying more attention to his stuff in particular. Barry and Angus have done this before, sure, but Magnus is new too, and his assignment involved actual reporting, not just giving a made up person advice. What can Lucretia possibly criticize about Taako’s personal opinion? He shrugs at Lup and looks back at Lucretia just in time to catch a frown on her face.

Great.

“Taako, can I talk to you?” she asks, getting to her feet.

Taako is _not_ going to be treated like a misbehaving student by a classmate. “What’s the problem?” He stays seated because he’s not going fucking anywhere.

Lucretia hovers in place, his column in her hand, and glances at everyone else in the office. “Maybe outside?”

“Why?” Taako asks. “You think they’ll magically forget you decided you wanted to call me out a hot second after submitting my first piece to your paper, Madam Editor?”

Lucretia flushes and Taako might feel bad about that, about embarrassing her in front of everyone, except she’s trying to do exactly the same thing to him. 

Luckily, Taako doesn’t embarrass easy.

“That’s not what’s happening here,” she says. “There are just some concerns I have about your column that I think we should address.”

“Mhmm, and they are…?” Taako leans his chin on his hand and bats his eyelashes at Lucretia. He’s made teachers cry. He’s not going to back down from a girl who only ever seems to wear her hair in a bun and who hides in a cardigan that’s at _least_ one size too big every day.

The flush on Lucretia’s cheeks deepens. “I think you should make some revisions. It’s normal for editors to give their columnists feedback.”

“Sure,” Taako agrees. “Is it normal for editors to decide what that feedback is going to be for one _particular_ reporter before they even look at everyone else’s work?” He taps a finger against his bottom lip. “Is it normal for editors to decide to call out a reporter in front of everyone instead of giving them written feedback or waiting until after the meeting?” He glances at Barry and smiles. It’s completely pleasant and completely false. “Barold, dear, you’re a nerd and evidently you’re tutoring the dumb elf in journalism. Maybe _you_ could let me know.”

Lup nudges his leg with hers under the table. “Taako.”

“Not now, Lulu. I’m getting a lesson. I need to concentrate or who knows if I’ll retain this important information.”

Barry and Angus both have their eyes locked on the papers in front of them. Barry’s face and ears are bright red—he looks more embarrassed than Lucretia. Taako would feel back about that if he was a better person, but he’s not. Lucretia’s the one who brought this on all of them. She’s the one who should take the blame for making the meeting uncomfortable.

“I’m not going to _print this_!” Lucretia snaps, slapping Taako’s column down on the table. “You don’t actually answer the question. You use the word fuck six times. And it’s—it’s _mean_. I _can’t_ print this. Other people actually care about this paper, Taako. _I_ actually care about it, and I’m actually going to put my name on it, which means you have to at least pretend like this isn’t all one big joke to you. I know you only agreed to let Principal Davenport put you in this class because you thought it would be easy, but I’m going to make you _try_ because you can’t just—just treat everything like it doesn’t matter!”

Her chest is heaving by the end of the rant and there are tears welling up in the corners of her eyes as she glares at him, but she’s not crying and even if she _were_ this isn’t like Rick or Leon. This is something completely different. Lucretia isn’t defeated—she is loud and passionate and _angry_.

Taako can feel the hard, cruel center of him coiling up, can feel the urge to lash out and take Lucretia down a peg, to tear her the fuck apart. It wouldn’t even be hard. Lucretia might be fierce right now, might be angry enough to try and take him on, but Taako sees the way she cloaks herself for invisibility in her school uniform. Lucretia’s confident here because it’s her home turf, but not elsewhere.

Taako can feel Lup’s leg pressed against his, insistent, grounding him and his anger.

He takes one breath. Then another.

Taako pulls himself upright. The only sound in the room is the scrape of his stool as he pushes it back across the hardwood floor. He reaches out to pluck his assignment from under Lucretia’s hand, crumpling it into a ball in his fist.

Taako grabs his tote and turns on his heel, walking out of the office without looking back. Fuck Lucretia and fuck her paper. Taako’s advice is good and Lucretia has no fucking idea what she’s talking about. Journalism was a mistake. He should have held out for philosophy.

When he reaches his room, Taako doesn’t bother pretending like he’s going to make himself ramen for dinner. He drops his bag and the scrunched up ball of paper that was his column by the door and takes off his jacket, letting it fall where he stands. Taako kicks off his boots to join the rest of the mess that covers his room, and all but stomps over to the bed.

He falls, face first, onto it and lets out a wordless growl of frustration into his pillow. After a moment, Taako rolls onto his back to glare at the ceiling. 

It’s fine. It’s not like he cares about the stupid paper anyway.

*

**_Q:_** _There’s a cute barista at the coffee shop I go to. How do I ask her out so she’ll say yes?_

**_A:_** _Uh, how about, instead, you don’t hit on people at work? Like what the fuck, my dude. You know she’s literally paid to stand there and smile and pretend not to be creeped out by dudes like you, right? I mean, fuck. She’s a person. She’s not going to go out with some fucking rando who decided to hit on her_ at work _. She knows fuck all about you besides—maybe—your coffee order, and if she remembers that it’s only because you come in way too much and she knows you as “the creepy dude who hits on me at work and stares at my chest” or something. I can’t believe I actually need to write this down, but don’t hit on people when they don’t have the option of literally running away from you. If they can’t nope the fuck out of there then don’t do it. It’s not cool. Tattoo that on your fucking forehead, bubelah._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "But what _is_ kerning?" I hear you ask. It's adjusting the spacing between letters to make it look nice. A month ago, when I posted a quote from Barry's typography lesson, epersonae [pointed me to this xkcd comic about kerning](https://xkcd.com/1015/) and now I'm sharing here because it's very good.
> 
> Good luck to everyone entering exam time right now! Hopefully this chapter can offer you a brief study break.
> 
> Come say hello to me on tumblr! [@marywhal](http://marywhal.tumblr.com)
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed this chapter! They mean a lot. ❤


	4. Columnist

_ Columnist: A writer using the same space daily, such as an advice column. _

*

Taako wakes up in a bad mood. He wakes up in a bad mood, and that mood comes with him to AP Elvish, where he sits and glares out the window, ignoring class and Jenkins in favour of hating everything about The Starblaster. He isn’t quite self-destructive enough to seriously contemplate _not_ writing a column for the first issue, with Davenport and Merle both expecting something from him, but he hates the idea of going crawling back to Lucretia to meekly hand over something bland and boring and distinctly not _Taako_.

He knows he doesn’t have long to come up with an alternative—something Lucretia will publish that’s not also an admission of defeat—but he has no idea what that magical column might look like. When Lucretia more-or-less offered it to him, the whole “make up a question” thing had seemed like a gift, but now Taako’s pretty sure she was setting him up to fail.

He’s still stewing in his bad feelings about the world in general—and Lucretia and the paper in particular—when Elvish gets out. Taako takes his time packing up, mostly to bug Jenkins, and by the time he leaves the room the hallway’s cleared out except for Maarvey, Little Jerry, Jerree, and—corned by the three older boys—the small figure of Angus McDonald.

“Come on, McDonald. We know you’re loaded,” Jerree says, looming over the kid. “Fork it over.”

“Yeah,” says Little Jerry. “Fork it over.”

Angus’s back is up against the wall. “I don’t _have_ lunch money,” he says. “Our meals are provided for us as part of the cost of tuition and boarding.”

“So what are you going to give us instead, kid?” Maarvey asks. “You’ve got to give us _something_ in exchange for safe passage or we’re going to have to get rough with you.”

Taako should keep walking. He’s got no dog in this fight. It’s not like Angus jumped to defend him in front of Lucretia. It’s not like they’re _friends_.

Angus looks around the otherwise empty hall for rescue and his eyes meet Taako’s. It’s a fleeting moment, one that sees a flicker of hope cross Angus’s face before he seems to manage his expectations, looking down at his feet, his hands clutching the strap of his satchel so tightly his knuckles are white.

Taako is briefly, fiercely annoyed by the assumption that he won’t do anything about the Hammerheads being dicks to a little kid—however accurate it may be—and that’s what pushes him over the edge and sends him wading into the middle of the confrontation. Taako’s not usually the intervening type, but he also really doesn’t like Maarvey and his friends. “What’s going on here, boys?” he asks, deliberately casual as he rests a hand on top of the pocket that holds his wand.

“None of your business,” Maarvey says. “What’s it to you if we fleece the kid for some gold?”

“Yeah,” says Little Jerry. “What’s it to you?”

Taako draws his wand and crosses his arms over his chest, taps it against his chin so it’s _real_ obvious to the Hammerheads. “I don’t think Agnes over there _wants_ to give you any gold. Do you, pumpkin?”

Angus’s eyes are wide, his focus entirely on Taako now, but he shakes his head quickly. “No,” he says. “I don’t even have any gold.”

“There you go.” Taako smiles at the Hammerheads. He wishes he’d picked the jacket he took from them off the floor this morning. It would have been a good day to wear it. “He’s got nothing for you boys.”

Maarvey takes a step towards Taako. “What about you?” he asks. “Maybe we should take _your_ gold.”

“Yeah,” Jerree says, also turning towards him. “Or your—your _shoes_.”

Taako looks down at his shoes. So does everyone else. 

Today, Taako’s got on a pair of glitter-coated silver sneakers, adorned with fake gemstones and laced with ribbon. 

They’re cute as fuck.

“I don’t think they’re your style, bubelah,” Taako says, looking up. “And also, uh, fuck that? I don’t know how you think you’re getting gold _or_ shoes from me, but if I were you I’d just move the fuck along.”

“Or what?” Maarvey asks, stepping closer. He’s practically chest to chest with Taako. They’re more or less the same height, but Maarvey’s beefier and he’s got a sneer on his face like he thinks he’s tough shit, like he thinks Taako’s going to be intimidated into backing down. “You’re not _allowed_ to use magic in the hallways.”

“True,” Taako says, and grins, because Maarvey might be bigger, but Taako’s _meaner_. “Weird that you think I give a fuck.”

That’s plenty of warning and Taako’s _not_ getting hit on behalf of some child he barely knows. He casts Prestidigitation, sending a shower of sparks up in front of Maarvey’s face. They’re harmless, but Maarvey still reels back like he thinks he’s about to catch fire, yelping and waving a hand to try and shoo them away.

“Move along before I Magic Missile your asses,” Taako says. “I’ve got _a lot_ of feelings today and right now you look like real good targets.” He drops his hand, tapping his wand against his leg and letting another shower of sparks fly. “You’ve got until I get to zero or get bored. Whichever comes first. Ten, nine—”

Taako doesn’t actually have to go lower than nine before the Hammerheads turn tail and start jogging down the hall, away from him.

“You’re going to regret crossing us, bud!” Jerree calls over his shoulder.

Taako wiggles the fingers on his free hand at their retreating forms. “I haven’t yet!”

“Thank you, sir!” Taako turns towards Angus and is almost knocked off his feet by the kid throwing his arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. “You saved me!”

“Yeah, well. Don’t mention it,” Taako says. He doesn’t know what to do about the hug so he gives Angus an awkward pat on the back. “Seriously. Nobody needs to know.”

“You don’t want to get in trouble for using magic in the hallways. I understand,” Angus says, pulling back and _beaming_ up at Taako. “The Hammerheads are always pushing me around. I’ve never had someone step in before.”

Taako frowns at that, looking Angus over. He is, definitely, still a baby. _No one_ stepping in sounds ridiculous to him. Taako knows, first hand, how shitty people can be, even to kids, and _still_ it sounds ridiculous. “What the fuck?”

“Well, um, most people are scared of the Hammerheads and they don’t usually pick on me if anyone else is around so…”

“I don’t understand why people think those losers are scary. They’re all talk. What’s your next class, kid?”

“Um. I have literature next.”

“Cool.” Taako starts walking down the hall. The lit classroom is in the opposite direction from AP transmutation, but that’s fine.

“Is your class… also this way, sir?” Angus asks, trotting to catch up with him.

“I think you know it’s not,” Taako says. “And I think you know that _I_ don’t think we should talk about that.”

“Okay.” Angus smiles up at him. Taako rolls his eyes and focuses his attention straight ahead. 

“People are scared of the Hammerheads because they beat kids up,” Angus adds, after a moment. “Especially if they think they’ve got pocket money from their family.”

Why is this Taako’s life now? What has he _done_ to himself? Taako looks down at Angus walking along beside him. “Listen,” he says. “People like that? Who go around picking on kids a third their size? You just have to look them in the eye and say ‘fuck you.’ They’re not used to people standing up to them, but once you _do_ they’ll know you mean business and they’ll leave you alone. Trust me.”

“I don’t… how would I even do that?” Angus asks, frowning. “I’m not—big.”

Taako pulls out his wand again, wiggling it at Angus. “Magic. Doesn’t matter how big you are if you can hit someone with a Scorching Ray or Mage Hand them out of existence.”

“Oh. I always wanted to learn wizardly magicks, but the school says I’m too young for the classes,” Angus says, giving Taako’s wand a delighted look. “That was Prestidigitation, right? That you cast? It was _amazing_!”

“Natch.” Taako looks Angus over. He’s _young_ , sure, but Taako was young when he and Lup started practicing magic too. That’s why they’re so _good_ at it. “The school doesn’t know what they’re talking about. Just get your hands on a wand and start learning.”

“I don’t—I don’t know if that’s _safe_ , sir.”

“Safe.” Taako waves a dismissive hand. “It’s _fine_. You just start small and work your way up. Get some books and try shit out. That’s what me and Lup did.”

“Your parents didn’t teach you?”

Taako pauses. It’s never once, in his three and a bit years at Neverwinter High, occurred to him that there were people who didn’t at least have a sketchy understanding of his and Lup’s tragic backstory. If Angus—nominally an investigator—doesn’t know, then does that mean _most_ people don’t?

It’s strange to think about. Magnus hadn’t know the Hammerheads were all from rich Goldcliff families either. Maybe money and class wasn’t a thing other people thought about. Maybe when you were rich, you just assumed everyone else was too. Or that people who pretended not to be were telling the truth, because why would anyone choose to present themselves as _not_ like you?

“Lup and I are orphans,” Taako says, when he realizes the silence is stretching out too long.

Angus looks immediately stricken. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to—assume.”

Taako shrugs. “Not like we ever really knew our parents. It’s fine, pumpkin. It’s not a new thing.” He stops outside the lit classroom. The door is shut and class is already in session, which means Taako’s going to be _very_ late for transmutation. “I need to get to class, but trust me. Get a wand. Learn to defend yourself. Don’t let anyone tell you you’re not allowed to do something you want to do.”

He ruffles Angus’s hair again, because it seems like the right thing to do, then heads back the way they came, towards a room literally on the opposite end of the school. It’s a good thing Taako’s currently Neverwinter High’s top transmutation student or Angus McDonald would be a real detriment to his grade.

*

Taako gets out of AP Transmutation to find Angus waiting for him in the hallway outside. Given the distance between their classrooms, it’s impressive.

“I was wondering,” Angus says, falling into step beside Taako. “Do you think you could tutor me?”

“Tutor you? Aren’t you… some kind of boy genius?” Taako asks, frowning down at him. “In what? Elvish?”

“Genius is—I don’t really like that label,” Angus says, which is what a boy genius _would_ say so Taako puts that one down as a _big_ old yep. “But no, I meant in magic! Because you taught yourself, so I thought—maybe?”

Angus looks up at Taako so beseechingly, so full of hope, that it’s very hard to immediately say no, which says a lot because Taako doesn’t _do_ this.

“I don’t know, kid,” he says. “I’m not really the… nurturing type.”

Angus’s face falls and Taako inexplicably feels _guilty_. Like what the fuck? What is happening to him right now? “Fuck, fine. I’ll think about it, okay? No promises, but I’ll _think_ about it.”

“Okay!” Angus says, brightening again, probably a little too fast. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it!”

Taako has a feeling he just got played. It actually makes him feel more inclined to help the kid out because Taako can appreciate someone with a talent for manipulating people to get what they want—he and Lup used to pull the sad kid routine all the time when they were smaller and cuter.

When they reach the cafeteria Taako expects Angus to peel off and head towards… whoever he usually eats lunch with—Barry, maybe?—but Angus follows him to the lunch line as he gets his fries with ketchup and his chocolate milk. Angus, in fact, follows him all the way to his usual table, where Ren has already set up shop.

Taako takes a seat and Angus sits beside him, smiling across the table at Ren.

“Hi,” Angus says. “I’m Angus.”

Ren has lunch from home today. Taako gives the turkey and tomato sandwich in her hands a jealous look as she sets it down. “I’m Ren,” she says. “Taako, did you adopt?”

“He’s in journalism with us,” Lup says, sitting beside Ren and giving Taako a questioning look. “Hey Angus.”

“Hello.” Angus beams at Lup and sticks a fork in his serving of gloopy cafeteria shepherd’s pie.

“Agnes was waiting for me outside transmutation,” Taako says. “He followed me here.”

Lup reaches over to steal one of Taako’s fries because for some ungodly reason she also picked the shepherd’s pie for lunch. “And... now you want to keep him? You know you have to feed him and give him water and take him on walks every day, right?”

“I’m not a dog. I’m a real boy!” Angus protests, and then pauses. “That… wasn’t how I meant for that to come out.”

“Yeah, little creepy, pumpkin,” Taako agrees, swatting at his sister. “Lup, if you wanted fries, you should have gotten your own. I’ll stab you with the kid’s fork next time.”

“Rude.” Lup sticks her tongue out at Taako and steals another fry anyway. Angus helpfully switches the hand holding his fork to keep it further away from Taako.

Taako shoots him a betrayed look. “Those aren’t the actions of someone who wants magic lessons.”

“Magic lessons?” Lup repeats. “Is _that_ why Angus is sitting with us? Angus, you don’t want magic lessons from Taako.”

“Hey,” Taako says. “I could give good magic lessons!”

“Yeah, you _could_ , but you won’t. Besides, you’re kind of busy right now, aren’t you? I know you didn’t work on your column after the meeting last night because I _know_ you. You’ve got to get it written and in by tonight if you want it published in the paper tomorrow.”

“I thought you had it done. Didn’t you finish it when you were at The Davy Lamp this weekend?” Ren asks.

Great, now they’re spending lunch talking about the clusterfuck that is his column. “It _is_ done. Kind of. It’s complicated.”

“Lucretia won’t print whatever Taako wrote,” Lup says. “It’s not that complicated. Too many fucks and I guess just general bad advice? I didn’t get to read it because Taako wouldn’t share.”

“I thought you were using my question?” Ren asks, giving Taako a confused look. “About creeps who hit on me at work?”

“Kind of.” Taako opens his milk so he has something to do with his hands. He didn’t show anyone for a reason. _He_ liked what he wrote, but showing it to Lup or Ren felt... weird. If it was just _in_ the paper then there’d be nothing anyone could do about it anymore. It would be safely over, as would the need to _talk_ about it. “I mean, I may have twisted the question around so it was from the point of view of the creeps trying to ask you out so I could tell them to fuck off and stop hitting at people who are literally paid to be nice to them.”

Ren lets out a delighted laugh. “I wish she’d let you publish that. I would have framed it and hung on the wall. Or propped it up against the register.”

“Right?” Taako shakes his head. “The world is _losing out_. Fuck.” He takes a sip of his milk, vindicated in his conviction that he’d made the right call. “Like, does Lucretia _want_ women to be harassed at work?”

“It was probably more about the swearing thing, sir,” Angus says. Taako had almost forgotten he was still there.

“It’s not like it’s that hard for her to just cut out the fucks,” Taako says, rolling his eyes. “She doesn’t like me. She doesn’t want me to have anything to do with her precious paper.”

“Well… you two don’t exactly get along right now,” Angus agrees, after a moment of obvious hesitation. “But, uh, I don’t think… I mean, Lucretia’s just really worried about the paper, sir. She’s put a lot of energy into it. It was basically her running it on her own before she got me and Barry to join. And she’s still fighting to keep it open. That’s why we’re all taking journalism, right?”

Taako is in it for an easy grade and because he wants to graduate this year. Lup’s doing it so she and Taako can spend more time together. Magnus probably actually does care about the paper. Not that Taako’s lumping Magnus in with him and Lup. He’s in a third group, all his own, and that group cares way too much about literally everything.

“Sure,” he says. “But she still doesn’t want me to have anything to do with it.”

“She just wants it to be perfect.” Taako can’t believe he thought he might sort of like Angus. He’s a total Lucretia apologist. “It sounded to me like she was just—I mean, before you two got in an argument I think it was just a style issue. I don’t know what your column said, but maybe you should try reading some professional advice columns and see how they write?”

Taako doesn’t need tips from a child. “I’m fine,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “I’ll figure something out. I’ve got until tonight to get it done.”

“Okay, sir. If you’re sure,” Angus says. He looks worried as he says this, which is—honestly, it’s weird. It’s no skin off Angus’s nose if Taako doesn’t get a column in.

“You could always write about sports too,” Lup suggests, grinning at Taako. “I know how _riveting_ you find my games.”

Taako groans and slumps forward against the table. “If Lucretia puts me on sports I swear to _Istus_ I’ll repeat my senior year. Some hills are worth dying on.”

There’s no part of him that means it. Lup laughs and kicks him under the table because she _knows_ him, knows he wants to check the fuck out of this conversation. “Dingus. It was a _good game_. We were awesome. Ren, it’s too bad you had to work.”

Taako still has to tackle the column eventually, but this is a good distraction, a good way to get Angus off his case. Familiar. He smiles at Lup and kicks her back, but gently. “Go on then, Goofus. Give us the full run down. I’m sure Ren’s just _dying_ to hear what she missed.”

*

The problem is Taako really doesn’t know what to do about his column. He thinks about it during his afternoon classes too, but can’t see how to fix what he’s already written or change it into something Lucretia will like. He doesn’t _know_ how to advise someone to make people stop hitting on them at work. Taako would burn a spell slot, but if someone actually did that, they’d probably lose their job, and at that point you might as well just quit to avoid dealing with creeps. The results would be the same, if less satisfying.

He ends up at The Davy Lamp again after school, mostly because he followed Ren when classes let out. “Do you think any of your favourite hipsters have problems I can solve for them?” he asks, as they walk into the coffee shop.

“I don’t know. Let’s see.” Ren raises her voice. “Kravitz! Have you got a problem Taako can solve for you in 250 words or less?”

Kravitz, behind the counter in an apron that hasn’t yet had coffee spilled on it today, turns towards them, looking adorably confused. “I’m sorry?”

“Taako needs another problem for his advice column. The editor didn’t like mine,” Ren says, shrugging. “He needs something else to fix.”

Kravitz looks around the coffee shop like he thinks he’ll be able to produce a question based on bad artwork and caffeine addicts. “I… still can’t remember how to make the seasonal drinks?” he offers.

“Not really what I’m after, my fella,” Taako says, leaning against the counter. “But I _will_ help you with that because I want a salted caramel latte with extra whip to help my thought process.”

“Seriously, if your blood pressure isn’t sky-high already it’s well on its way,” Ren says. “Salt _in your coffee_.”

“Taako is an elf with refined tastes,” he says. “Salted caramel is fancy as fuck.”

Ren lays a hand on his arm, shakes her head. “Taako, you’ve eaten fries, ketchup, and chocolate milk for lunch everyday since we became friends. And it’s been over _three years_ now.”

It’s true, but that doesn’t mean Ren has to say it in front of the cute goth barista.

Ren disappears to the back to put her stuff away and get her apron, leaving Kravitz and Taako alone with Kravitz’s hoard of struggling writers.

“What was wrong with Ren’s question?” Kravitz asks, after an awkward moment of just kind of… staring at Taako.

“Nothing,” Taako says. “Lucretia doesn’t like me. And she said I swore too much.” He rolls his eyes. “It was a solid column, but I guess I need to change the Taako brand to something _bland_ to fit her expectations. It’s bullshit.” Taako shrugs, even though he’s still feeling slighted and grumpy and bitter. “It doesn’t really matter. I’ll figure something out. Angus suggested reading other advice columns so I guess if I find some I can just steal a question from them.”

“We’ve got some papers,” Kravitz says, gesturing towards the door, where there is, indeed, a stand full of papers. “I think you’re allowed to just… read them. I’m not actually sure. Nobody’s asked and I haven’t been told anything.”

“Nobody reads newspapers. I’m sure it’s fine,” Taako says, glancing at the stand. It sounds remarkably like giving up and Angus can _never know_ Taako followed his advice, but… maybe it would help to know how this stuff _usually_ goes. Taako refuses to be boring and soulless, but you have to know the rules to be able to break them.

Taako is all about creative ways to break things. It’s why he actually read the student handbook. It’s why he’s got the best shoe collection on campus.

“Yeah, fuck it,” he says. “Why not? You try to figure out how to make my drink so Ren’s impressed when she gets back.”

Taako collects a stack of papers to wade through—he has no idea which do advice and which don’t so he grabs one of each—and heads to his usual chair, which is blissfully empty as if The Davy Lamp knew he was coming and saved it for him.

Taako sets up shop and starts flipping through newspapers. Advice columns don’t feature in every paper, but there’s a surprising number of them. Taako finds the papers that offer advice, builds a stack of them open to the column, and settles in to book it through them. It’s not like Taako’s never read an advice column before, but the ones in the magazines he brings to Lup’s games are usually about someone having bad sex. The ones in the papers are… different.

_Dear Benevolent Bea,_ says one, _My eight-year-old son won’t go to sleep before ten. What can I do to encourage him to sleep earlier?_

Boring. Not really a problem anyone at Neverwinter High has, unless you count Angus, who probably _doesn’t_ sleep early enough, actually. Angus strikes Taako as the kind of kid who stays up all night doing homework or reading or something. Angus definitely thinks math is fun. Benevolent Bea’s answer is boring too—a lavender spray for the kid’s pillow and warm milk.

_ Dear Himeros,_ says another, _I’m in love with a girl, but she says she thinks of me as a friend. What can I do to convince her I shouldn’t be left in the friendzone?_

Taako feels almost physically repulsed by that one, but forces himself to read the answer, which is—not bad. Taako would have told the guy to fuck off and leave his friend alone because she deserved better, but Himeros is subtler about it.

_If your friend isn’t interested in a relationship with you now, there’s not much you can do about it. Your friendship means she knows you well and likes you. If she were looking for something romantic, it would already have manifested. Instead, reflect inward and decide whether you’re prepared to be a true friend to her while you harbour these feelings. Regardless, you should move on and find someone who is also seeking romance. Don’t hurt yourself holding out hope for your friend to change her mind._

Taako hates how… wise and almighty it sounds, but maybe he can kind of see Lucretia’s point about how telling his fictional asker to fuck off a bunch of times probably isn’t the best strategy. Reading the column, he can picture other people writing in for advice based off the answer, even if Himeros basically told the dude to fuck off and leave the poor girl alone too, just in a _nice_ way. Taako’s column was… a _little_ less inviting.

He’s frowning down at the column, resenting the fuck out of what was _supposed_ to be an easy assignment, when Kravitz appears in front of him, drink in hand.

Taako glances up at him, then over at the bar, where Ren is wiping the counter with forced casualness, then back up at Kravitz. “On the house?”

“On the house,” Kravitz promises, a small smile playing across his lips as he sets it down on the table next to Taako’s armchair. “Ren walked me through making it so it should be all right. How’s the advice?”

“Fucking garbage,” Taako says, reaching for the coffee. “You wouldn’t _believe_ what people ask about. It’s so boring. And the answers are so _professional_. Not exactly Taako’s style.” Taako picks up a third paper to demonstrate. “Dear Todd,” he reads. “How do I convince my fiancé to let me get a pet tarantula?”

There’s a long pause. Taako stares down at the paper in his hands and double checks, but no, that’s definitely what the question says.

“That’s… not what I was expecting.” Taako looks up at Kravitz. “This is the first spider-related question I’ve come across.”

Kravitz laughs. It’s the first time Taako’s seen him _really_ smile, and the first time Taako’s noticed the very, very important fact that Kravitz—along with his classy clothing and nice shoes and extremely handsome face—has braces. His teeth look pretty straight, but, yep, _definitely_ a mouth full of metal.

“You have braces,” Taako says, without thinking, and Kravitz immediately raises a hand to cover his mouth.

“Yeah,” he says. “Not for much longer. They’re coming off soon. Maybe by next year?” 

Taako would like to discuss the discovery that his hot goth Cockney barista has freaking _adorable_ braces in more detail, please, but Kravitz leans over so he can peer down at the paper and check for himself that, yes, there is in fact a spider-related question in the actual copy of the Goldcliff Gazette Taako’s holding. “What does Todd say?”

“Probably not ‘Don’t make your fiancé live with a fucking giant spider if they don’t want to, what’s wrong with you?’ which is what he should say,” Taako says, after a moment, angling the paper so Kravitz can read it too. Taako scans the advice and snorts. “Educate them about tarantulas my ass. This dude can fuck right off. I’m pretty sure the fiancé knows enough about spiders to decide if they want to live with one or not already, Todd. Fiancé doesn’t need someone lecturing them about how great giant ass spiders are everyday. Like, fuck.”

Kravitz laughs again, low and soft. Taako can normally get a bigger reaction than that, but he blames it on Kravitz obviously being self-conscious about the braces thing—which is ridiculous because Kravitz is hot. Just. Objectively. And somehow his quiet laugh is still enough that Taako feels pleased with himself.

“I think the fiancé would probably appreciate your advice more than Todd’s,” Kravitz says.

“Natch.” Taako sets the paper down so he can reach for his drink. Kravitz has piled it appropriately high with whipped cream and caramel drizzle, topped it with sparkling flakes of sea salt. It’s a disaster of a beverage and exactly Taako’s jam. He takes a sip. It’s overly sweet and Kravitz still hasn’t quite gotten the hang of steaming milk, but that’s fine. He’s cute and he thinks Taako’s funny.

“Cheers,” Taako says, raising the mug in his hand. “Glad I can continue to help with your training. I don’t suppose you’ve come up with a question for me?”

Kravitz shakes his head. “Sorry, nothing,” he says. “I should get back to work. Ren sent me to deliver the drink, but I don’t want everyone thinking I’ll do it for them too.”

Taako appreciates Ren a lot. Ren is a good friend.

“Nah, I’m sure they get that Taako is a special case,” he says, hiding his stupid fucking grin by raising the drink to his lips again.

Kravitz turns away, then pauses. “Why don’t you work in the opposite direction?” he asks, glancing back at Taako. “With your question? Think of the last piece of good advice you gave and use that to shape a question instead. That’s what I’d do.”

That’s—not a bad idea. “Shit, Krav. You just cracked this case wide open,” he says, setting his drink down and scrambling to find his notebook under the pile of newspapers he’s buried himself under. “Cha’boy’s got some work to do laying down his wisdom.”

“Let me know if you need a refill to keep you going,” Kravitz says. “You know, as our special case.”

Taako fishes out his notebook and casts Locate Object to figure out where his pen is hiding. He’s got to get this down before his inspiration fades.

*

The new column feels like it’s burning a hole in Taako’s bag as he walks through the library. The door to the newspaper’s office is open and he can hear voices inside—Barry, Angus, and Lucretia, laughing. Taako’s never heard Lucretia sound like she’s having a good time before. It’s a little disconcerting.

He hovers outside, in the stacks, and pulls the sheet of paper he’s written the column on out of his bag. It’s good. He’d thought the other one was too, but this one is—there’s no swearing and there’s a real problem and good advice. Lucretia won’t be able to fault it.

He’s pretty sure she won’t be able to fault it.

Taako shakes himself out of his hesitancy—it’s _stupid_ to stand around feeling intimidated by a few nerds working late on the school paper—and waltzes into the room. “I have my column done,” he says, walking straight up to Lucretia and brandishing it in her face.

She’s working on the paper’s layout, using some kind of spell to set letters into a press. Taako’s sure the first unit of the course talked in vague terms about the spellwork involved in setting up a small printing operation like the one behind the school paper, but he’d skimmed it so it’s all new to him.

Lucretia lowers the wand in her hand and gives Taako an unimpressed look as she takes the paper from him. “We’re already started to set the pages. You really need to get your work in sooner.”

“We haven’t done the last sheet yet. We’re okay,” Angus says.

Taako gestures towards Angus. “D’jango over there seems to think it’ll be fine and he’s a boy genius, so…”

Lucretia glances down at the paper in her hand, reading quickly, and Taako holds his breath for half a second before her eyebrows raise and her shoulders relax a little. “This is—good, Taako,” she says, after a moment. She looks up at him and there’s a hint of a smile on her face. “Okay. We can print this.”

Taako rolls his eyes. “Duh, I know,” he says. Inside he’s fucking ecstatic. He solved her newspaper puzzle. “Make sure you include a call for more questions. I don’t want to waste my time chasing something down for the next issue.”

“We have the call for questions written already,” Barry promises. He’s got ink on his forehead, somehow. He leans over the table and takes Taako’s column from Lucretia. “Thanks, Taako. The first issue’s going to be out tomorrow. You’ll get to see your work in print!”

Barry says it both as if Taako should be thrilled and like a dismissal. Taako glances at Angus, who doesn’t seem to be doing anything useful—just hanging out while Lucretia and Barry work the spells to get the newspaper prepped for printing, like their mascot or something. Taako _knows_ Angus doesn’t have the magical capabilities to help. And yet, nobody’s politely asking Angus to fuck off.

Taako shrugs and adjusts the bag on his shoulder as he turns to go. “Yeah, sure. See you at the next meeting or whatever.”

There’s another burst of laughter after he leaves the office, but that’s fine. Taako has no desire to spend his night burning spell slots on the school paper. There’s no glory in typesetting.

*

**_Q:_** _There are these guys at school who bully me and other kids. I don’t know what to do to get them to stop. How should I protect myself?_

**_A:_** _Look, I’m not going to sit around and pretend like I know your life, but until you do something about it they’re just going to keep pushing you around. I know jerks like that. They’re big, dumb, and they have matching leather friendship jackets. I’m not saying put your face in the way of their fists or anything, but you seem like a smart little dude, so use that. Whatever your strength is, use it to your advantage and give as good as you get because—let’s face it—if they’re wandering around picking on kids, they deserve what they’ve got coming to them and they’re not too bright. Trust me, bubelah—learn to stand up for yourself early on. If you know you can take care of you, then you don’t ever have to worry about whether or not someone else has your back._

_When all else fails, cast Magic Missile. They’ve got it coming._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few chapter specific thank yous: One, thank you to weatheredlaw who _immediately_ supported Kravitz with braces, even though at that point it meant me going back and rewriting _every scene he's in_. Worth it.
> 
> Two, a HUGE thank you to foxy-alien, who is an amazing artist that you should all follow, for drawing (when I first posted it a couple months back) [Taako and Ren's salted caramel conversation](https://foxy-alien.tumblr.com/post/167428540867/marywhal-nanowrimo-265k-today-again-slower%20), and who has since made the first scene of this fic into a comic?? It's _so good_ , y'all. [Please go look and reblog their artwork!!](https://foxy-alien.tumblr.com/post/168410495942/i-am-in-love-with-marywhal-fic-bury-the-lead-a)
> 
> Three, thank you to genkijulie, who drew [this amazing Lup and very adorable blushing Krav](https://genkijulie.tumblr.com/post/168449383575/stop-what-youre-doing-and-read-bury-the-lead-by) over on tumblr (along with a PSL, Starblaster, leopard print shoe, and a slice of pepperoni and pineapple pizza), which you should definitely go like and reblog! I'm so glad y'all are into this fic. 
> 
> Thank you, also, to everyone reading! The next chapter will be up on Thursday.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr, as always, at [@marywhal](http://marywhal.tumblr.com), where I'm much faster at responding to things!
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave comments or kudos!


	5. Byline

_ Byline: A line at the beginning of an article that gives the name of the writer(s). _

*

Taako wakes up the day The Starblaster is scheduled to relaunch, rolls over, and goes back to sleep. His body still hasn’t gotten the memo about the whole no home ec thing and keeps trying to wake him up for a class he no longer has. Taako _could_ use the extra time to eat breakfast, for once, but sleeping in is more appealing.

It means he’s late to gym, but Taako’s good with that. Coach Taylor watches him walk in fifteen minutes after the start of class, but knows better than to say anything about it by now. Taako returns the favour by not bothering with the pretense of making up an excuse, he just heads straight to the bleachers to sit with the rest of the class. Coach Taylor starts dividing them into dodgeball teams and Taako immediately turns him out. He has more important things to think about, like the fact that there are people actually _reading_ The Starblaster in class. 

Julia Waxmen and Carey Fangbattle are whispering over a copy, sharing the back page—probably reading Lup’s article about their game.

Taako leans towards them, trying to overhear their conversation, but Coach Taylor blows his whistle and interrupts before he picks up on anything except the word _funny_. 

“All right, everyone. Into your teams so we can start the game!” Coach says. “Remember, there are no losers when everyone tries their best!”

The class, almost as one, groans. It’s been three years of Coach Taylor’s motivational speeches. They’ve heard them all.

Taako gets to his feet and wanders towards an arbitrary side of the gym because he has no idea which team he’s supposed to be on, but it doesn’t really matter. He waits for Coach Taylor to start the game and the balls start flying, then immediately walks back to the bleachers. Coach Taylor watches him do it, definitely knows he didn’t get hit, but Taako stares him down because dodgeball is _not_ an integral part of Taako’s education and _what’s Coach Taylor doing to do about it_?

Fail Taako, probably. He’s not doing well in gym. That’s fine. Taako’s looked into how much the IPR people care about his gym grade and the answer is _not a lot_. The Institute of Planer Research application lets applicants discard their bottom two grades when calculating GPA, so Taako’s fine to give as few fucks about gym as he wants.

He takes a seat and picks up Carey Fangbattle and Julia Waxmen’s copy of the paper. Lup and Magnus’s articles take up most of the back page, but there, in the bottom left corner of the sheet, is his column.

Lucretia’s named it _Words of Wisdom_ , which is terrible. After Taako’d come up with The Starblaster, you’d think Lucretia would ask him for help naming _his own column_. He’d been in the office the night before and everything. She’d had the chance.

Whatever.

The column itself takes up less space than Taako thought it would. Magnus and Lup’s articles are both actually pretty weighty, and Lup’s has an illustration of the team attached.

“Oh hey, is that my copy of the paper?”

Taako looks up as Julia Waxmen sits beside him. She doesn’t look upset about him taking it, so he shrugs. “I haven’t had a chance to pick up a copy yet. Do you mind?”

“Nah. It’s good, right? Lup’s article is great.” Julia leans closer so she can look at it again. “Carey’s thrilled she got mentioned by name and the illustration is amazing. I didn’t even know we had a school paper until Lup said you two joined. It’s cool. Did you see the advice column?”

Taako pauses because, uh, _yes?_ Of course he’s seen the advice column. He _wrote_ the advice column. His eyes flick down to it again and he frowns because for all he wrote the thing, his name is _definitely_ not on it.

“Who the fuck is Just Ask Justin?” he asks, resisting the urge to crumple up the paper in his hands. This has Lucretia written all over it. She named his column _and_ him without asking his opinion first because of _course_ she did.

“Aren’t you on the paper? Shouldn’t you know?” Julia asks, giving Taako a confused look. “I figured it had to be Lucretia, but then Justin told the question asker to use Magic Missile on the Hammerheads and that doesn’t sound like her. Barry, maybe?”

So Taako’s answer stayed the same. That’s good.

“Just Ask Justin is a terrible name,” Taako says, handing Julia her paper back. “Did you… like the column?”

Julia laughs and Taako _feels_ how fast his ears go down, pressing back against his head, which is obvious as fuck as a tell, but Julia doesn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah, it was _great_ ,” she says. “I don’t know who Justin is, but I like them. The Hammerheads are the worst and Justin called them out. In a public forums too. I mean, everyone’s reading the paper today. Everyone’s going to read what Justin said about them and their—what is it? Their matching friendship jackets. Whoever Justin is, they’ve got a good sense of humour.”

Taako lets himself relax, ears perking up again. “Yeah, good,” he says, looking down at his feet to hide his grin. “Justin’s fucking hilarious.”

*

Taako grabs his own copy of the paper on his way to lunch and tucks it into his bag for safekeeping. It’s just a tiny, silly advice column, but he feels absurdly proud of it. He’d never in a million years _admit_ that to anyone, but still. 

It’s good. 

It’s his.

Taako’s in line to get fries and chocolate milk when Magnus find him.

“Magnus!” Magnus yells, grabbing Taako from behind.

Taako jumps, only _just_ stopping himself from braining Magnus with his lunch tray. “What the _fuck_ , my man?” He turns and gives Magnus a dirty look, brandishing the tray in Magnus’s face. Just because he didn’t hit him immediately doesn’t mean Taako’s not still considering it. “You want to end up taking this to the face?”

“Sorry,” Magnus says, laughing and not looking sorry at all. “Carey hates it too. Have you seen the paper yet? Isn’t it _cool_? I’ve never had my name in print before, but it’s awesome. I’ve been giving out copies in all my classes. I like your pseudonym too. Justin’s good.”

“Lucretia came up with it,” Taako says. “You’ve been handing out copies of the paper? Just… to everyone?”

“Yeah, of course,” Magnus says, like every single one of his classmates probably isn’t annoyed with the whole journalism class now. “I mean, not if they already had a copy, but we’re supposed to be making sure people read it, right? I figured I’d put it out there as much as possible. If we’re going to save the paper, we need to make sure everyone sees it. We need to make sure people want it to keep going.”

“I guess.” It’s easy to forget that Taako’s the only one on The Starblaster who _has_ to be in the journalism class unless he wants to take another year to finish high school. “Plenty of people were reading it in gym. Julia Waxmen liked Lup’s article on the game. She said she liked my advice column too.”

Magnus’s face and ears slowly turn red. “Did she… say anything about my article?” Magnus asks. “I mean, it’s cool if she didn’t. That’s a long shot anyway. Just… you know. If she did. You could tell me. Even if it… wasn’t good?”

Taako’s glad he doesn’t do crushes. They’re fucking embarrassing.

“We didn’t talk about your article,” he says. “It wasn’t really, like, an in-depth review of the paper. I just stole her copy for a bit during dodgeball.”

Magnus wilts—visibly wilts, his shoulders slumping and face falling—but rallies himself enough to nod. “Yeah, of course,” he says. “It was a long shot that she’d talk about it anyway. I know that.”

“Uh-huh.” Taako doesn’t even have to place his order. The lunch lady just hands him a plate of fries when they make it to the front of the line. “I’m sure she’s read it. You could just... ask her.”

“Oh, no,” Magnus says, shaking his head. “No, definitely not that. That’s… not. We’re not… she’s… you know.” He shrugs and then turns to the lunch lady. “One special please.”

The special today is meatloaf, which is a fucking insane thing for Magnus to order from the cafeteria at all, let alone for lunch. Taako shuffles down the line and grabs a chocolate milk out of the fridge, trying not to think too hard about Magnus’s food choices.

“Yeah, well, nobody’s going to ask her for you,” Taako says, shrugging. “It’s on you if you want to know what she thinks, my man.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I know.”

Taako hands his meal card over to the gnome working the register, then heads for his usual table. 

Magnus, inexplicably, follows. “I just figured, you know. I’ve heard lots of people talking about your column. Maybe you’d heard people say something about my article.”

Taako pauses. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah. Were people in your classes not talking about it?” Magnus asks. “Everyone thinks it’s funny. The way you called out the Hammerheads and stuff, you know? And the Magic Missile joke. People like that one a lot.”

“It…” It wasn’t supposed to be a joke. Taako glances around the cafeteria, confused. There are a _lot_ of papers spread out over tables, a lot of students reading them. The relaunch seems to have worked. Lucretia will be ecstatic. “I only talked to Julia.”

“Oh yeah, then I guess this is news. The paper’s pretty boring, except, you know, your column. It stands out.” Magnus shrugs and takes a seat at Taako and Ren’s usual table. Ren isn’t there, which is weird. She doesn’t buy lunch so she’s almost always there first.

“Taako’s hilarious,” Taako agrees, after a moment, and sits. He pauses as he looks at Magnus. “This isn’t where you usually eat.”

“Oh, yeah. Usually I sit with Avi and Carey and everyone,” Magnus agrees, digging into his meatloaf. “I figured I’d sit with you guys today. The paper crew. We should go out on the weekend or something. We can all celebrate together. It’ll be fun. We’ve never all hung out before.”

Taako thinks about Lup’s field hockey game and Magnus following him and Lup into the student lounge after the second meeting. He thinks about Angus trailing him through the halls, and about Lucretia, Barry, and Angus laughing with each other in the office the night before. Magnus probably would have been asked to stick around and help out, even though he, like Angus, can’t do magic. Honestly, if Lup showed up without Taako she probably would have been invited to stay too.

Magnus is acting like The Starblaster is one big, happy family and it’s not. In Taako’s experience, there’s no such thing as a happy family.

He’s speaking before he’s really thought through the words coming out of his mouth. “This isn’t fantasy Breakfast Club, Magnus,” he says, and his tone is harsher than he expected it to be. “We’re working together. Just because we have to spend time together after school doesn’t mean we’re all going to be friends.”

Magnus looks—he couldn’t look more surprised if Taako had reached across the table and slapped him.

Taako turns his attention to his fries, picking one up and taking a bite without really tasting it. “I mean, you’ve got plenty of friends already. Don’t really get why you’re sitting here, big fella. Haven’t you got better places to be?”

On the other side of the table, Magnus spends a long moment just… silent. Long enough that Taako starts to feel bad. Long enough that Taako feels the misguided urge to fill the silence with more words.

He resists, barely, and only because Magnus gets to his feet.

Taako glances up at him, ears drooping because he’s expecting anger, but Magnus just looks… sad.

“Well... Sorry,” Magnus says, and there’s something stiff about unnatural about his voice, something tight. “I didn’t realize you wanted to be alone. I’ll see you at the meeting after school.”

Magnus leaves Taako alone with his fries and Ren and Lup still inexplicably missing in action. Taako only makes it about two minutes on his own before grabbing his chocolate milk and abandoning the fries as a loss, as a message for Lup and Ren, whenever they show up, that Taako was here and won’t be joining them. Taako is out.

*

He’s out, but he doesn’t go far. Taako ends up outside Merle’s office, milk in hand, scowling at his closed door and the sign promising Merle will be back at 12:30. Taako’s not even sure why he decided _this_ was where he was going to spend his lunch hour, but now he’s annoyed Merle isn’t here to greet him.

Taako leans against the wall opposite Merle’s office and opens his milk. If it’s going to be his lunch today, then he’s not going to let it go to waste.

Merle’s door is covered with paper leaves like it’s an elementary school bulletin board or something. The leaves all have words written on them, words like _Truth_ and _Joy_ and _Honesty_ on them. Under the sign promising Merle’s imminent return, there’s a schedule displaying Merle’s drop-in office hours. Lunch isn't on it, but Taako’s not here for counselling. He’s here because he doesn’t want to be in the cafeteria, and if he tells Lup he doesn’t feel like being in the cafeteria then she’s going to end up dragging the story of him making Magnus sad out of him, and Taako isn’t up for that right now. Lup would _not_ approve. He’d rather be here, drinking chocolate milk, glaring at the word _Joy_ on its jaunty little paper leaf.

“Taako?”

Merle has good timing. Taako was _this_ close to ripping the cheesy leaves off his door and slipping them into Maarvey’s dorm to frame the Hammerheads for petty vandalism. “Hey Merle.”

Merle peers up at him as he unlocks his office. The cafeteria has a rule about dishes and trays staying inside, but apparently staff are exempt because Merle’s got a serving of meatloaf balanced on the tray in his other hand.

Taako hasn’t really eaten yet today, but he still pulls a face. “Are you really having the meatloaf? You need some self-respect, my man.”

“Is that milk your lunch?” Merle asks, leaving the office door open behind him. He sets his tray down on the desk. “Come on. Might as well come in, kid.”

Taako glances up and down the hall for observers, then does as he’s told, shutting the door behind himself and dropping into his usual chair.

“I saw your column in the paper,” Merle says, opening one of his desk drawers and digging around inside. “You did a good job. Not sure I’d advise people to solve their problems by attacking people with magic, but it was a good note to end on. Not too heavy.”

Taako rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know. I’m hilarious. Everyone who’s read the column has said so.”

“So you’re telling people it was you? I wondered, when I saw the pseudonym.”

“No. That’s—Julia Waxmen just told me she thought it was funny and the other person I talked to was Magnus Burnsides, so. He knows. He’s on the paper too.”

Merle produces a second fork from inside the drawer and wipes it off on his shirt, then holds it out to Taako. “Here. Eat something.”

“The cafeteria meatloaf is disgusting,” Taako says, but takes the fork and steals some of Merle’s mashed potatoes anyway. They’re gloopy and paste-like, definitely not made with real butter, but it’s food and he’s _hungry_. In this state, the potatoes come very close to tasting good. 

Merle cuts off a portion of the meatloaf and pushes it towards Taako’s side of the plate and Taako accepts it without complaint. Sometimes, given no other options, you just have to take what you can get.

“Why Justin?” Merle asks, after a couple minutes of eating in silence.

Taako shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. “Wasn’t consulted on the name. I don’t know why you’d think Lucretia would give up any fucking control she didn’t have to. She probably came up with a bad name on purpose because she doesn’t like The Starblaster.”

Merle gives Taako an amused look. “I figured that one was yours.”

“Natch, homie. _Taako_ is excellent at naming things,” Taako says, glancing up at Merle and grinning. “Fuck Words of Wisdom and Just Ask Justin though. They’re terrible. She didn’t even _ask_ me if I wanted a pseudonym.”

“Most advice columnists use them, don’t they?” Merle asks. “Thought that was kind of the format.”

“Just because everyone else is doing something doesn’t mean _I_ have to,” Taako says. “You’re supposed to listen to me, Merle. You should know this by now.”

Merle snorts. “Yeah, you got me there. You talked about this with Lucretia yet?”

“No. And I’m not going to,” Taako says, pulling a face. He finishes off his portion of the meatloaf and leans back in his seat, cradling his milk in his hands. “You can’t con me into having a heart-to-heart with her, Merle. Come on.”

“Worth a shot.” Merle eats a forkful of potatoes, looking Taako over. “Sitting down and talking can solve a lot more than you think it can. So you want to tell me why you're hiding in my office instead of eating lunch with your friends?”

Taako shrugs and looks away because the plants on Merle’s windowsill suddenly seem very interesting. He bounces to his feet so he can wander over and prod the ficus. “I’m not hiding. Just avoiding.”

Out loud, it sounds ridiculous. Even to Taako. 

He rolls his eyes at himself. “Okay, fine. I’m hiding,” he says. “I don’t want to deal with all that, you know… stuff.” Taako waves a hand to indicate the look on Magnus’s face when Taako told him to fuck off and the guilt Taako felt after. Still feels. How exposed he felt when Magnus left, sitting at the table alone, waiting for Lup and Ren to show. There’s something seriously wrong with him for caring this much. He and Magnus aren’t even _friends_.

Taako can feel Merle’s eye boring into the back of his head as he prods the ficus.

“And when you say _stuff_ , you mean…?”

Taako huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, turning to glare at Merle. “Look, I came here to avoid my emotions, not to talk about them. If you could, uh, chill with the counselling for a second my plan would work a lot better.”

Merle smirks and eats another bite of mashed potatoes. “As long as we’re both clear on what you’re doing,” he says. “You can sit, Taako. Tell me what’s wrong with the meatloaf. I know you’ve got an opinion.”

“I’ve got _facts_ , my dude.” Taako takes the lifeline Merle’s offering him and drops back into his seat. “Let’s start with the obvious. Powdered onion soup mix is _not_ a substitute for actually fucking seasoning your meatloaf. I don’t care how much ketchup you add to try and make the flavour profile seem more complex.”

*

Merle kicks Taako out of his office at the end of lunch, but that’s fine. Taako’s performance in gym aside, he _does_ actually want to graduate this year. Neverwinter High may technically be home right now, but it’s not his favourite place in the world. Classes are boring and the other students aren’t exactly his _people_ , even if they’re all supposed to pretend they're peers who like and respect each other. It's bullshit. Taako feels very little affection for his classmates and even less respect. If they knew anything about how Taako and Lup grew up—and apparently they don’t—his classmates would inevitably look at them with pity because, you know, _poor orphans_.

The last thing Taako and Lup need is pity. They’re beautiful, smart, and competent. They pulled themselves the fuck up in the world through sheer force of will. Who in their right mind would look at all they’ve done for themselves and think they should be _pitied_?

Taako drifts through his afternoon classes, stewing in bad feelings—in guilt and anger and disgust—only half paying attention. His grades are good enough that it won’t matter.

Lup is waiting for him outside his last class, which means she ducked out of artificing early. As soon as he's within arm’s reach, she punches his shoulder hard enough to bruise.

“Hey!” Taako protests, rubbing his arm.

Lup just glares. “What the hell, Taako? I get to lunch and the only sign you’ve been there is an unfinished plate of fries. You know Ren’s out sick today? I ate lunch with Ango. Just Ango. He couldn't stop talking about Caleb Cleveland books. Where _were_ you?”

“You’ve got other friends,” he says. “You could have sat with Julia Waxmen instead.”

“Yeah, I could have, but I was waiting for my brother to turn up. Where’s your stone of farspeech?”

Taako pauses. It’s… definitely sitting in his dorm on the floor somewhere, along with most of his other worldly possessions. “Oh,” he says.

“Yeah, _oh_.” Lup hits him again, then tugs him into an embarrassing hug in the middle of the hallway. “What’s the point in us having them if you’re not going to carry it, babe?”

Taako gives Lup an awkward pat on the back. She’s literally the only person in the planer system he’d let hug him like this, but physical contact in front of people is still not his favourite thing. “We’re going to be late for the meeting.”

“That’s another thing!” Lup pulls away, grinning at Taako as she links their arms together. “I haven’t gotten a chance to tell you I liked your column. I don’t know what the old one was like, but the new one is _great_. You did a good job telling the Hammerheads to fuck off without literally telling them to get fucked.”

Taako fucking preens. He can’t help it. Lup’s opinion means a lot more to him than some rando classmate’s. “Course. It’s how we do.”

“Everyone’s talking about The Starblaster now. Lucretia’s _got_ to be thrilled. We definitely saved the fuck out of this paper.” Lup actually looks proud. Taako never cared about the ‘save the paper’ part of this deal, but he nods anyway. Maybe the success of their first issue will make Lucretia chill the fuck out.

When Lup and Taako reach Starblaster HQ the door is open and everyone else is already inside. Lucretia’s smiling, thank fuck, and laughing with Barry as Magnus walks around the room with Angus on his shoulders.

“We did it!” Angus says, when the twins walk in, raising his arms in the air—carefully, so he doesn’t accidentally hit the ceiling he’s perilously close to. “The first issue is a success!”

“It is, but this means we need to make sure our second issue is just as good,” Lucretia says, grinning up at him. “We can’t let ourselves lose ground. We need to prove to Principal Davenport and the Board that the paper’s worth keeping. Has everyone started on the package for the second unit?”

Shit. Taako’d forgotten about the whole homework thing. Had they _gotten_ the second unit yet?

Magnus stops walking. “Where do we… get it?”

Lucretia looks at Magnus, exasperated but fond, which for sure isn't the look she'd give Taako if he asked the same question. “The office,” she says. “They send the new units out as soon as they get the last completed set. The instructions in the course booklet explain all of this, Magnus.”

Taako and Lup exchange a glance and silently agree to keep their mouths shut about this also being news to them.

“So when should we have it done?” Lup asks, letting go of Taako’s arm so she can sit. “I assume you want to make sure we all finish again.”

“If you don’t mind. Just… this is important to me. I want to make sure everyone’s on track,” Lucretia says. “Meeting deadlines is an important part of keeping a paper running. I was thinking by this weekend? Does everyone have time for that? That’ll give us all time to work on our next assignments too. I think an issue every other week is still a good schedule. It’ll keep us relevant. Agreed?”

“Yeah, it’ll be good for anticipation,” Barry says. “And gives us time to get letters for Taako’s column.” He turns to Taako, grinning. “Everyone I talked to loved it.”

Taako should take the praise as his due because that’s what it is. Barry’s a nerd, but Taako actually kind of likes him. That’s what he _should_ do.

“Who’s Taako?” he asks instead, leaning against the table. “I only answer to my newspaper name when I’m in the newspaper office.” Taako turns his attention to the head of the table. “What was it again, Lucretia?”

Lucretia flushes. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I chose one for you,” she says. “We were pressed for time if we wanted to get the issue out and I forgot to ask before you left last night.”

“You could have come and asked if I even wanted to _use_ a pseudonym. Or sent the kid to ask.” Taako nods towards Angus, still on Magnus’s shoulders. “It’s not like I’m hard to find. I live here.”

“It was late by the time we were laying out the last page. I didn't want to bother you,” Lucretia says. “It’s not a big deal, Taako. Everyone likes the mystery of who wrote the column.”

“The column that _I wrote_.”

“Anonymity is part of the format,” Lucretia says. “It’s not like it’s even really a mystery if people think about it. The three of you each only wrote one thing for this issue of the paper.”

Taako just—he _really_ doesn’t like Lucretia’s sanctimonious ‘I-know-better-than-you’ bullshit. “You’re wasting a whole lot of words on excuses when you could just admit you didn’t want to bother asking because you knew what you wanted to do already, Madam Editor.” 

Maybe he hasn’t fully finished processing the argument from the last meeting. Not his fault. Lucretia’s the one who brought this on herself.

She’s bright red now. Taako very pointedly doesn’t look at anyone else in the office. He can feel waves of silent disapproval rolling off Lup already. He doesn’t need to see her face.

“I'm sorry,” Lucretia says. “I wasn't trying to take anything away from you, Taako. But if you don't want to be here right now, maybe you should just leave. The rest of us are trying to celebrate our joint success.”

“Gladly.” Taako does look down at Lup, briefly, and yep, the scowl on her face says she’s not happy with him. “I’ll see you later, Lulu. Have fun.”

Interpersonal relationships have never been Taako’s strong suit so new strategy—he gets through the journalism units as quickly as possible and drops the fuck out of the paper. He doesn’t _need_ it to complete the class and as far as ways to spend more time with his sister go, it’s not actually improving anything so far.

*

Taako swings by the school office to grab his copy of the second journalism unit and then heads to The Davy Lamp. It’s not until he walks through the door that he remembers Lup saying Ren was out sick today, which means she won’t be at work either.

He stops in the entranceway and contemplates heading to fantasy Starbucks to grab a frappuccino and harass Greg Grimaldis instead, maybe going back to his dorm, but in that moment of hesitation Kravitz—behind the counter in another black-on-black shirt and vest ensemble, dreads pinned back—spots him. Kravitz raises a hand in greeting, smiling wide enough to show off his braces, and, yeah, okay. The Davy Lamp has a distinct lack of Ren, but it’s got other things going for it right now. 

“Ren’s out sick today,” Kravitz says, when Taako walks up to the counter. “Please go easy on me.”

“My man, you need a challenge if you’re going to get better at your job,” Taako says, flashing Kravitz a smile of his own. “But yeah, I know. She wasn’t at school either. Give me… something with a lot of whipped cream and sugar. Something new.”

Kravitz glances at the sparse selection of syrups available to him, then back at Taako. “I have… blackberry syrup,” he says. “No one’s ordered anything with that yet.”

“Fuck it, let’s do this,” Taako says. “Give me a latte with half blackberry, half hazelnut syrup. Top it with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle.”

Kravitz doesn’t look like he trusts Taako’s palate, but he dutifully pumps the syrup into a large mug. “How did the column go?” he asks. “I was hoping Ren would bring me a copy of the paper today so I could read it.”

“Oh, I was fucking brilliant, obvs.” Taako follows Kravitz as he moves down the bar to pull the espresso shots for Taako’s drink. “Everyone thinks I’m hilarious. Well, everyone thinks the _advice_ is hilarious. They don’t know I’m the one who wrote it.”

“You decided to be anonymous?”

“The editor decided I should be anonymous.” Taako waves a dismissive hand. “I wasn’t part of the decision making process. You’d think she’d at least let me choose my own name, but that would require Lucretia giving up control and Lucretia doesn’t _do_ giving up control.”

Kravitz looks up from making Taako’s drink, eyebrows raised. Considering they haven’t known each other long, it seems _very_ unfair to Taako that Kravitz is calling him out like this already. 

Taako rolls his eyes. “Yeah, fine. Taako isn’t great at giving up control either. I’ve got a counselor for this, my dude. I don’t need it at my coffee shop.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Kravitz turns his attention back to the milk he’s steaming, smiling one of his quiet, closed-lipped smiles. Taako can already tell the milk is going to be over-aerated just from the sound the steam wand is making, but he’ll let it slide. One day, Kravitz will get the hang of this.

“You didn’t _need_ to say anything. It was all in the eyebrows.” Taako waits until Kravitz looks up again, then wiggles his eyebrows pointedly. Kravitz snorts and turns his head away from the espresso machine to muffle his laughter against his arm.

Taako feels _incredibly_ pleased with himself. He smirks and reaches across the bar, prodding Kravitz’s shoulder. “Come on, don’t let my espresso go bitter just because you think I’m charming.”

“I don’t think that’s possible with the amount of syrup in this drink,” Kravitz says, but he doesn’t deny finding Taako charming so _that’s_ a plus. Kravitz pours milk over the espresso and syrup mixture, then grabs the whipped cream canister to top off the drink. “Plus, it’s free. Hard to object to a free coffee.”

“Is it? I wouldn’t know. Been a while since I paid for one.” Taako picks up the mug as soon as Kravitz finishes it with a swirl of chocolate sauce. He raises it to his lips and takes a sip. 

He was definitely right about the milk—it has big bubbles and an uneven texture in his mouth, it's not at all velvety the way Ren can get it—but he also nailed the flavour combo. It’s sweet, yeah, but there’s _depth_ to the way Taako’s layered up the artificially flavoured sugar in his new creation. Taako wipes whipped cream off the tip of his nose and holds the mug out to Kravitz. “I’m a fucking genius. Stick this on the menu and call it the Taako special.”

Kravitz hesitates for half a second before taking the drink from Taako and trying it. He pauses, momentarily, then takes a second sip. “This is _good_ ,” he says, giving the drink an impressed look as he passes it back to Taako. There’s a bit of whipped cream on his face, by the corner of his mouth, but Kravitz doesn’t seem to notice. “Sweet, but… complex.”

“I know what I’m about. Taako is a culinary genius,” Taako agrees, setting the mug down. “You’ve got—here.” He reaches out, wiping his thumb over Kravitz’s cheek to get rid of the smudge of whipped cream and chocolate.

Kravitz’s eyes go wide and his cheeks beet red, his breath visibly catching in his throat. It’s very—it’s endearing. Taako loves The Davy Lamp.

“Got it,” Taako says, voice sing-song sweet as he bats his eyelashes at Kravitz. “All good, bubelah?”

“It—yes,” Kravitz says, and there’s something—different about his voice, all of the sudden. “Very good.”

Taako frowns, tilting his head, eats cocking to the side. “Sorry?”

“It’s—yes, that’s okay. With me. The touching,” Kravitz says, and he’s _even redder_ now, but more importantly—

“What happened to your accent there, thug?”

Taako has never seen someone look as absolutely, totally terrified as Kravitz does in that moment, and the sheer force of Taako’s personality has made grown men cry.

“I… shit.” Kravitz’s shoulders slump and he gives Taako a sheepish look. “It’s actually kind of a relief to be able to drop it, if I’m being honest.”

Taako blinks because, yep, _this_ accent sounds a lot more like a real voice than the other one, which has always sounded strangled to him. Unnatural. “Have you been… using a _fake accent_?”

“It was—an accident,” Kravitz says, rubbing a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean to, but I came in for the interview and everyone looked… you know, cool. It kind of just… happened when they started interviewing me. It got away from me and—I didn’t mean for it to spiral out of control the way it did.”

Taako can’t deal with this. He can’t deal with the idea of panicking and just _faking an accent_. He can’t deal with the concept of Kravitz starting _out_ faking an accent, getting the job, and then just… deciding that was his life now, he had a fucking work accent and had to maintain the charade.

Taako absolutely loses his _shit_.

He laughs so hard he needs to bend over the counter for support, his hands hands pressed over his face, giggling helplessly into the wood because what the _fuck_. It’s the most absurd choice he can imagine a person ever, ever making. It’s _wild_. Kravitz is—the whole _situation_ is—ridiculous.

“Oh my _gods_ , that is the dorkiest shit I’ve ever heard,” Taako says, panting as he glances up at Kravitz. “Holy shit, my dude. How do you function? Like as a person? You’re lucky you’re hot.”

Kravitz is blushing even harder now and looks torn between discomfort and amusement, because shit, yeah—Kravitz would have to be very, very misguided not to see how fucking _hilarious_ this situation is.

The look on Kravitz’s face sends Taako into another fit of laughter, high-pitched and helpless, bordering on hysterical.

Kravitz chuckles too, his laugh open and tinged with relief, then reaches across the bar to shove Taako’s arm, gently. “Okay, yes. I know it’s ridiculous. I don’t know why I kept the lie going as long as I did, except I’m not sure how to tell people it was fake in the first place. I’m glad I could entertain you.”

Taako pushes himself upright, wiping tears from his eyes and taking deep breaths as he tries to regain his self-control. “You have no idea how much I needed that,” he says, grinning. “Please let me be here when you admit to Ren that your accent is fake.”

Kravitz wrinkles his nose, but nods. “Fine,” he says. “But only because you’ve got a cute laugh.”

Taako is blindsided by the complement. He feels the tips of his ears go red, which is just—not fair.

Kravitz looks very satisfied, all of the sudden, seeing him blush.

Taako opens his tote and pulls out his copy of the paper, thrusting it against Kravitz’s chest. “I have homework to do,” he says. “Here. If you want to read my column. You can keep that copy.”

“Cheers,” Kravitz says, in his strangled Cockney accent, grinning wide and flashing his braces as he takes the paper from Taako.

Taako rolls his eyes and picks up his drink. “Can’t fool me with that anymore, Krav,” he says. “I know your little secret.”

Taako settles down in his usual chair to start working on the journalism homework. If he maybe keeps half an ear out to hear if Kravitz laughs at his column and smiles when he does, that’s fine. Nobody else needs to know.

*

When Taako gets back to his dorm, there’s a note waiting for him, sitting in the semi-circle of clear space behind his door—space which clear only because opening and closing the door tends to shove everything out of the way. He picks it up and nudges the door closed with his foot on his way to the bed. The note is written on thick, high quality paper—like you’d get in a sketchbook—and folded in half. Not from Lup, and Taako’s not sure who else might leave him messages. Angus, maybe.

When he opens it, it’s from Lucretia.

Lucretia’s writing is loopy, neat, and aesthetically perfect. She probably fucking practices her calligraphy. She seems like the type.

The note is short, to the point:

_Taako,_

_I’m sorry for making decisions about your column without consulting you first. You were right. I should have asked. But it’s my right as the paper’s managing editor to make those calls when it’s necessary. I know we haven’t seen eye-to-eye on a lot of things, but for the sake of the paper I hope we can put our enmity aside. I think we can both find a way to be more professional in future. I’ll make an effort and I’m sure you will as well._

_Sincerely,_

_Lucretia_

Taako rolls his eyes and crumples it into a ball, tossing it in the direction he thinks his garbage can is in. If Lucretia wants to play at being _professional_ , fine. He can handle that. Taako’s been through worse than pretending to like a particularly annoying classmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Starblaster has put out a call for readers to submit questions for Taako's advice column, and now I'm following suit. Do _you_ have any questions for Taako to answer in this fic? If so, I would love to hear them! 
> 
> There will be reader questions, accompanied by Taako's advice, included in the upcoming chapters of this fic. If you would like to submit a question, please either **leave a comment on this chapter** or, if you would prefer, **submit a question via tumblr**. There is a little more information on how to do that [here, in this tumblr post.](http://marywhal.tumblr.com/post/168545537924/bury-the-lead-questions)
> 
> Thank you to everyone for reading! As always, you can find me on tumblr at [@marywhal](http://marywhal.tumblr.com).
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a comment or kudos!


	6. Audience

_ Audience: The people or households who are exposed to the newspaper.  _

*

Taako is headed towards Starblaster HQ after school, Angus trailing in his wake, as has become the new normal—and Ren is going to have a field day with whenever she gets back from her near-week long absence—when Principal Davenport calls his name. Taako pauses. Does a mental assessment of what he could possibly have done to get himself in trouble. Nothing recent he can think of, unless Davenport only _just_ opened a copy of The Starblaster and thinks Taako needs to be taken to task for advocating the use of magic against his fellow students.

It’s not like that should be a surprise to anyone, but still. Maybe Davenport is being pushed by Leon or Rick.

Taako glances down at Angus and the worried look on his little face. “It’s cool, little man. Run ahead without me,” he says, waving him off. “Tell Scooby and the gang I’m going to be late for the meeting because Princi’port wanted to talk.”

“If you’re sure, sir.” Angus glances at Davenport again, who gestures for Taako to come closer.

“Not sure what you think you could do here, pumpkin, but I’m sure,” Taako says, patting the top of Angus’s head before shooing him on his way. He walks over to Davenport, waiting in the entrance to the administration office. “What’s up, Princi’port? I haven’t made any teachers cry lately so it can’t be that.”

Davenport’s eyebrows raise and his eyes flick to the side. Taako glances over his head, and _yep_ , should have checked for listeners first, because there’s Leon. Interrupted in his conversation with the secretary, red-faced and glaring at Taako.

Taako waves hello and turns back to Davenport. “So?”

“Why don’t we go into my office, Taako?” Davenport asks. “You’re not in any trouble. I just wanted to check in. You handed your journalism homework in early last week.”

Taako _had_. He’d whipped through it at The Davy Lamp and handed it in Friday morning, mostly because he’d hoped to get the third package right away. It hadn’t worked out. There was a delay while the schools called in the order, which means he’s going to get the third unit at the same time as everyone else despite wrapping up first. School bureaucracy is doing its best to thwart his plans to leave the paper.

Taako follows Davenport into his office and takes a seat. “What can I say? I’m a natural.”

“I enjoyed reading your column,” Davenport says, a ghost of a smile flitting across his face as he settles in behind his desk. “Of course, _officially_ I have to tell you that using magic to attack other students is against the rules and would result in at least a suspension.”

“Are you… telling me that _unofficially_ you support the use of magic against my fellow students?” Taako asks, eyebrows raising.

“I didn’t say that.” There’s a definite look on Davenport’s face that says he’s _thinking_ it though. Taako knew he liked Princi’port for a reason. “I’m impressed with how quickly the six of you managed to relaunch the paper. Lucretia tells me you’re responsible for the name change?”

Taako very much doubts Lucretia credited him with the new name as a compliment, but he nods. “It’s a Taako original,” he says. “I’m fucking hysterical when you give me a chance.”

“Taako.”

“Freaking hysterical.” Taako waves a hand. “I don’t want to be rude, but is this all? I’m seriously not in trouble for anything?”

“You’re not in trouble.” Davenport smiles at him. “I just wanted to tell you how nice it is to see you this invested in something at school. I know in the past you’ve found that some of your classes… aren’t as challenging as you’d like them to be.”

“You mean they’re ridiculously easy? Yep, definitely found that,” Taako says, snorting. “AP Elvish is a joke.”

Davenport raises an eyebrow. “Taako, you tested out of AP Draconic during your freshman year. I don’t think you can blame the easiness of Elvish on the course.”

Davenport might have a point.

“Journalism isn’t hard either, but it’s at least new. Not sure Lucretia’s thrilled to have me as part of her club, but it’s fine.” Taako would very much like to leave the paper, but he can’t say that to Davenport’s face immediately after his—slightly patronizing—“congratulations for participating” speech.

“Good. I hope you and Lucretia can learn to get along. I think you’ll find you’ve got a lot in common. I’m keeping you from a meeting, though, which won’t help. I should let you go.”

Taako pushes himself to his feet. “It’s cool. I’ll blame it on you.”

“Please do,” Davenport says, smiling.

There’s a knock on his office door. Taako opens it without thinking about maybe asking Davenport if he wants him too, and Merle’s waiting on the other side, a pack of cards and a couple bottles of beer in his hand. He looks surprised to see Taako.

Taako’s gives the bottles of beer a pointed look, raising an eyebrow. “Are you, the school counselor, about to drink and play cards with the principal while on school property?”

“School hours are over, kid,” Merle says, shouldering his way past Taako’s legs and putting the beers down on Davenport’s desk. He climbs into the chair Taako just vacated and starts dealing cards. “Our weekly yooker game waits for no man. Or elf, as the case may be.”

“I was just telling Taako I enjoyed his column,” Davenport tells Merle. “Despite advising his audience to break school rules.”

“Yeah, don’t know that any of us can really expect Taako’s advice to tell people to fall neatly in line,” Merle says, and turns to grin at Taako. “I’m looking forward to what wisdom you’ve got in store for the next issue. See you for our appointment tomorrow?”

“I’m already leaving, Merle. You don’t need to push me out the door. I’m not _trying_ to interrupt date night with Princi’port. He’s the one who pulled me in to talk,” Taako says, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be there tomorrow. Enjoy your drinks and your card game. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Taako closes the door to the sound of Merle laughing and Davenport sputtering an embarrassed, half-hearted protest.

*

Arriving late to the meeting isn’t the greatest look. Lucretia’s probably feeling pretty up on herself for leaving Taako a passive aggressive note about how _she_ could behave like an adult so why didn’t he try it out, followed _immediately_ by Taako not showing up on time. Everyone goes silent as soon as he steps into Starblaster HQ, so it’s clear that Angus has made this worse by telling them about Daveport calling Taako into his office. It’s obvious the entire team thinks the visit was about more than giving Taako an attaboy.

Taako’s eyebrows raise. “So you were definitely talking about me. Good to know.”

“Babe, what happened with Princi’port?” Lup asks. “You were gone for… a while.”

“Nothing important,” Taako says, and it’s actually true—an inconveniently timed friendly chat _is_ nothing. “I’m not in trouble, if that’s what you’re wondering. He _officially_ doesn’t approve of the use of magic against other students, but unofficially he thinks I’m hilarious. As he should.”

“So you’re okay?” Magnus asks, which is—wild, honestly. Taako basically took Magnus’s head off snapping at him the last time they had a conversation, all but said _fuck off my dude_ , and here Magnus is, looking genuinely concerned for Taako’s welfare.

It throws him. “I’m okay,” Taako says, and instead of flippant it comes out sincere, quiet.

“As long as you’re not in trouble,” Lucretia says, after a moment of—for Taako, at least—uncomfortable silence.

“No trouble.” Taako pulls up the stool beside Lup’s. “So are we going over assignments for the next issue now or what?”

“We’ve finished up for the most part,” Lucretia says. “But… Barry and I were wondering if you might… be comfortable taking on a larger project?”

Taako frowns. The advice column was supposed to get him out of doing real work. “What kind of project?”

“Honestly, we’ve gotten... quite a few letters seeking advice. We thought you might be up for expanding the column.”

“How many is quite a few?” Taako asks, glancing at Barry.

Barry turns in his chair and grabs a shoebox from the back counter, setting it down on the table. “It’s, uh, it’s a lot,” he says, pushing the box towards Taako. “Like… a _lot_.”

Barry’s not kidding. There’s a metric fuckton of letters stuffed into the box. At least thirty, which is—considering they had _none_ for the first issue—buckwild. “Holy shit,” Taako says, picking through the letters. “Seriously?”

“Some of them have multiple questions,” Barry says, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m not sure how you’re going to choose, but… maybe you could do two questions? Maybe even three? We can afford to shift column space around. It’ll mean dropping the book review, but—”

“Yeah, no one was reading that anyway,” Taako says, his eyes still on the letters. “Fuck. I guess okay? I’ll do more questions? We don’t even have to ask for people to send in more after this. We’ve got all the questions we could possibly want.”

“We’ll want more,” Lucretia says, shaking her head. “People might lose interest in the column if they realize their question won’t appear. It’s important to play up the selection aspect. Besides, you might not be able to answer all of them.”

“Gee, thanks.” Taako rolls his eyes, then looks back down at the letters. It’s a lot to process, that so many of his classmates want his advice. They sure don’t think much of Taako’s life choices when they know who he is. And also—what the fuck do they think Justin knows that they don’t? Not that Taako won’t _enjoy_ telling people what to do—of course he will—but it never occurred to him that this many people might want to _listen_.

“Hey.” Lup elbows him, gently, and Taako glances up at her. She grins, tucking a strand of her poorly dyed hair behind her ear. “Good job, bro.”

“Yeah, this is awesome,” Magnus says. “It’s kind of like knowing a famous person, except you’ve got a secret identity so no one _knows_ you’re famous.”

“Right, like knowing a famous person with none of the perks,” Lup agrees.

At the front of the room, Lucretia clears her throat. Magnus and Lup settle down immediately. Taako, despite himself, is impressed.

“If there’s no other new business, I think we can adjourn the meeting,” she says. “Everyone’s got their assignments.”

“Uh,” Taako says. “I just got here?”

“You’re doing the advice column, Taako. Barry has your letters in a box for you. Is there anything else you need?”

Taako’s pretty sure being _professional_ with each other should involve a little more politeness. He leans as far back on his stool as he dares, contemplates escalating the weird cold war version of _professional_ Lucretia’s apparently adhering to, then decides he’s going to be the bigger person so fuck her.

“Nah,” he says. “You know me. I’ll be able to figure it out in one of my moments of lucidity.”

Okay, maybe not _that_ much bigger of a person, but that’s fine. He’s still Taako.

Lup kicks him under the table, but it’s a gentle kick so Taako knows she’s not that mad. It’s probably more the principle of Taako being a dick that she’s objecting to than his actual words.

Lucretia gives Taako an unimpressed look, but he just stares her down. Lup and Magnus might be cowed by her, but he refuses.

“Good,” she says. “I’m glad we’re agreed. Everyone try to get your articles done by the print deadline this time. It makes it a lot easier to get the layout done.”

Taako bites back a comment about how _he_ wasn’t the one who delayed his column. Professional. Sure. That’s exactly how he’d characterize Lucretia’s behaviour right now.

As Lup packs up her things, Taako starts flipping through the letters in his box without really processing what they say. A couple people have stuffed their questions into envelopes, but most are on loose leaf paper. Taako assumes they were shoved under the office door, but who knows? Maybe they have a mailbox somewhere and he just hasn’t been informed of that yet. If they don’t and Lucretia really wants to keep accepting letters, they might need to get one—providing the column stays popular.

“Taako, you coming?” Lup asks, getting to her feet.

“Nah,” he says. “I’m going to look through my fan mail and see if I can pick out the best questions. You go ahead.”

Lup gives him a look that says very clearly she knows he’s trying to provoke Lucretia, but doesn’t argue. “Okay. I’ll be in the student lounge. I’ve got my stone of far speech.”

“I’ve got mine too, Mom,” Taako says, which is definitely worth Lup hitting him on her way out. Magnus follows her, Angus at their heels, and then it’s just Taako, Lucretia, and Barry left.

Barry seems fine—he’s got a notebook out and is maybe doing homework, maybe working on an assignment for journalism, but there’s an obvious awkwardness to Lucretia as she sits there, like she’s waiting for Taako to leave too.

“Sorry, is this no good?” Taako asks, unfolding one of his letters deliberately slow. “I’m allowed to be in the newspaper office, aren’t I?”

“You are a member of the paper,” Lucretia says, after only the briefest of pauses. “Of course you’re allowed to be here. I just—didn’t think you wanted to spend much time here.”

“I’ve got letters to go through,” he points out, nodding down at the box. “They’re important.”

Lucretia can’t exactly argue that Taako’s assignment for her paper isn’t important. She just nods and starts gathering her things. “I’ll see you both later,” she says. “Barry, I thought maybe Counselor Highchurch would be interested in being profiled for the next teacher interview. I’ll check with him tomorrow.”

“Great,” Barry says, looking up from his notes and smiling at Lucretia. “See you tomorrow, Luc.”

Taako fiddles with the corner of the letter in his hands while he waits for Lucretia to leave, then counts off thirty seconds to be sure she’s not coming back. “So Barold.”

“Taako.” Barry leans back on his stool, a wary look on his face. “We’re alone.”

Taako snorts. “Don’t worry. I’m sure I can restrain myself.”

Barry goes red, which is interesting. “That’s not—I didn’t—I know you’re not… into me,” he says, waving a hand between the two of them. “I just meant—“

Taako bursts out laughing because he can’t help himself. Barry is possibly the most easily flustered person he’s ever met and it’s great. “Fuck. Your face. I know that’s not what you were getting at. Calm down, my dude.”

Barry takes a moment to do some deep breathing.

Taako rests his chin on his hand and suppresses the urge to tease him further because he’s not actually convinced Barry’s heart could take it.

“I meant...” Barry says. “I mean, uh, I assume you did that on purpose?”

“Some of it was to fuck with Lucretia, but you’re not far off,” Taako admits, shrugging. “You’re super into this journalism stuff and you’re a nerd.”

“Well, I—uh—I do _like_ the newspaper, but I’m not… I joined because I’m friends with Lucretia and she needed more people on board to keep it open. I’m actually… arcane sciences is what I’m really interested in? The IPR has a really good program I want to get into. The, uh, The Institute of Plana—”

“I know what the IPR is, Barold,” Taako says, giving him an unimpressed look. “Lup and I are both applying there.”

“What, really?”

Taako’s not sure if he should be offended by the surprise in Barry’s tone. Maybe. To be fair, Taako hasn’t gone out of his way to project an air of competence and intelligence to… anyone, really. Lup can’t help how brightly her light shines, but Taako’s light is a dim motherfucker most of the time, and he does his best to be underestimated. Harder for people to be disappointed if they don’t bother seeing below the surface. Harder to be disappointed by people in turn because no one makes promises to someone they don’t think can offer them anything.

“Yes, really,” Taako says. “I’ve got the highest transmutation marks in school. The only person more talented at evocation magic than me is Lup, and she’s better than _literally everyone_.” He raises an eyebrow at Barry. Sometimes, and only sometimes, Taako likes to whack people upside the head with the fact that he’s not everything he presents himself to be.

Sometimes he just wants to _scream_ it.

“How the fuck did you think I kept my scholarship up? I’m frequently assured that they don’t give them out just because they don’t want to break up the set.”

“No, I know,” Barry says. Taako is about to call him on his bullshit when he stumbles ahead. “Well, no, that’s not true. I didn’t know about your transmutation marks. I figured—I mean, Magnus, Lup, and Angus have all talked about how good you are with languages, and you’ve completed the AP credits for a different language every year since our freshman year, right? I don’t know why anyone would think you weren’t smart, Taako.”

The thing is, Barry genuinely seems to _mean_ it. It throws Taako off. Where normally he’d say something sarcastic in response to something like that—would _definitely_ blow off the same comment from Merle or Princi’port—Barry saying it makes him… stop.

“Oh,” he says, and Barry smiles and pushes his glasses up his nose.

“So what did you want?” Barry asks. “I don’t think you need my help with your column. You’re doing great so far.”

“No, not that. The third unit. What’s it on?”

“It, uh, it lists them in the course catalogue,” Barry says. “Don’t you have your copy still? It’s handy as a guide.”

Taako had trashed the catalogue as soon as he got his and Lup’s paperwork filled out. He’d assumed he wouldn’t need it again. Maybe no one ever came into his disaster of a room, but it was still fucking embarrassing to have something like that just… hanging around. “Nah,” he says. “It’s gone.”

Barry turns to grab his backpack from the floor and unzips it, pulling out a tidy binder with a copy of LEARNING AT MY OWN PACE! tucked inside the front cover. “Here,” he says, offering it to Taako. “You can copy it if you want. What’s it for?”

“Considering getting a head start,” Taako says. Barry’s marked the page for journalism with a sticky tab, because of course he has. Taako flips the booklet open and grabs his own notebook so he can copy the topics down, then groans when he sees what he’s got in store for him next. “We go from typography and fucking, uh, style, editing, and headlines to _ethics_?”

“Ethics are important, Taako.” The look on Barry’s face says he’s being completely serious. “They’re the foundation of balanced journalism.”

“Barold.” Taako slumps forward and stretches his arms across the table beseechingly. “Barry, I’m writing an _advice column_ for _high schoolers_.”

“Well…” Barry makes a face as he considers this _very important_ point. “That’s true, but still. It probably won’t be a hard unit to complete. At least unit four is fun.”

Taako looks down at the catalogue and, yep, unit four is layout and learning the spellwork behind small print presses. “I am very good at magic,” he says, after a moment. “At least it won’t be questions about ethics.”

“See? Positive thinking.” Barry smiles at Taako. “Everything else is focused on writing, so it’s easy after that. Maybe a little more work for some of us, but it shouldn’t be hard. Hopefully we’ll be able to just expand the paper to fit in all our assignments by then. Change the format a bit.”

Barry’s right. The last four units of the course all focus on particular kinds of writing—Story Ideas and News Writing; Reporting and Interviewing; Editorial, Column, and Review Writing; and Feature Writing. They’re going to have to pry Taako’s advice column from his cold dead hands, but other than that, the rest of the units sound okay.

This does mean, though, that there’ll be no speeding through the course and leaving The Starblaster behind before the end of the semester. He’s stuck here, with these nerds, pretending to care.

“Fuck.”

*

By the time Ren _finally_ comes back, exactly one week and one day after first abandoning him, Taako is dying to know what she thinks of his column.

He arrives at the cafeteria, Angus in tow—Taako doesn’t know how Angus figured out his schedule, but he has, and now he’s frequently just… waiting outside Taako’s classes—and spots Ren’s familiar white hair at their table. Taako ignores the lunch line and walks directly over to her.

“Thank _fuck_ you’re back,” he says, fishing a copy of The Starblaster out of his bag. He slaps it down beside her. “I need to go get fries. You read this. Tell me what you think when I get back. The correct answer is that I’m brilliant.”

He turns on his heels and snaps his fingers at Angus. “Let’s go, pumpkin. Lunch time.”

“I’m still not a dog, sir,” Angus says, but follows anyway.

Taako retrieves his lunch and returns to the table with Angus on his heels. Angus has opted for the special and has a plate full of chili and, for some reason, a hamburger bun. Every day the cafeteria gets worse. Taako’s not sure why chili would be served on a plate or why you wouldn’t offer actual _bread_ as a side.

“So?” Taako sits across from Ren again and picks up a fry so he can stab it into his ketchup. “What do you think?”

Ren looks up from the paper, smiling. “Taako, it’s _good_.”

Taako gives Ren a pleased look as he pops the fry into his mouth. “Natch. I wrote it.”

Ren rolls his eyes and folds the paper so she can slide it back across the table. “Thank you for keeping a copy safe for me. All the racks around school are empty.”

“Really?” Angus asks, giving Ren a surprised look. “But we _never_ run out.”

“You just needed a signature Taako rebrand,” Taako says, buffing his nails on his shirt. The polish is starting to chip. He’s going to have to repaint them soon. “I’m a certified genius.”

Angus makes a doubtful sound that has Taako squawking in protest as he reaches out to ruffle Angus’s tightly curled hair. “Fuck off, D’jango. Taako is a _smart cookie_.”

“Taako is certainly a cookie with a big ego,” Lup says, dropping into the seat beside Ren. She’s also opted for fries today. “Sup? Good to see you’re not dead, babe.”

“Good to not be dead,” Ren says. “Speaking of dead, do I have to start packing you two vegetable snacks when I make my lunch?”

“Potatoes are a vegetable,” Taako says. “Tomatoes are a fruit. We’re eating vegetarian. This is _health_ food.”

Lup nods. “My milk is fruit too. It’s strawberry. Much healthier than chocolate.”

Ren considers this for a moment. “You _are_ the twin I worry about getting scurvy the least.”

Taako sticks his tongue out at Ren as Angus launches into an excited explanation about how slim the chances of Taako and Lup actually getting scurvy are, provided they keep consuming enormous amounts of ketchup.

Taako tunes him out because ‘ketchup will stop Taako from getting scurvy’ is really all he needs from this conversation, and because Lucretia is sitting, alone, at the table kitty-corner from theirs. He can’t remember ever seeing her in the cafeteria before, but Taako also didn’t know who Lucretia was prior to being conscripted onto the paper. He wonders where Barry is and if Angus ate with her before Taako stole him.

Taako’s not about to give the kid back, but there’s something kind of sad about watching Lucretia sit there alone, eating a homemade sandwich—one that’s just white bread and a couple slices of deli meat, as far as he can tell. She’s got an apple and a juice box and the bland food makes the whole scene even sadder.

Taako eats another fry and does his best to find Lucretia sitting in her lonely little bubble satisfying. It’s not like they’re friends. It’s not like she likes _him_ either.

The satisfaction he’s promising himself he’ll feel is marred by the Hammerheads walking up behind Lucretia. They don’t make a move to try anything with her—even they couldn’t get away with shoving someone around in the middle of the cafeteria—but it’s definitely not a coincidence.

“I don’t know why anyone would read that stupid paper anyway,” Jerree says, voice deliberately raised. “Everyone knows it’s for nerds.”

“Yeah, it’s for nerds,” Little Jerry agrees, laughing.

No one else at Taako’s table has noticed this happening. Lup and Ren have their back to Lucretia and, by all appearances, are actually listening to Angus talking about vitamins or whatever.

“I guess if you don’t have any friends, what else are you going to do?” Maarvey glances at the back of Lucretia’s head as he says this, grinning. “I mean, if _nobody_ likes you then you might as well spend all your time working on something no one cares about, right?”

Lucretia may not have elf-level hearing, but the Hammerheads are right behind her. She can’t miss what they’re saying, or the fact that it’s about her.

She keeps her back straight and her eyes forward, staring at nothing. When she swallows the bite in her mouth, she raises her sandwich to her lips and takes another, chews deliberately. She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t indicate that she’s heard them say anything about her or her paper.

After a few moments, with no reaction forthcoming, the Hammerheads wander away, laughing to themselves.

Lucretia allows her shoulders slump once they’re gone and Taako looks away, tuning in to the conversation at his own table, which has somehow come around to the time Lup broke her big toe. Lucretia’s issues don’t have anything to do with him. If she wants to write him for advice, he’ll give her some. Otherwise they’re not his problem.

*

The deadline for submitting his second column is approaching, so in his room, after dinner, Taako sits cross-legged on his bed and pulls letters one by one from the box Barry handed him on Tuesday to actually try reading the questions.

It’s… a lot. Some of them are funny—easy to answer or to blow off—but some of them _aren’t_ and Taako doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel about that. The first question he answered was technically about a kid getting bullied, yeah, but everyone’s feedback so far has mostly been about enjoying the part of his answer where he made fun of the Hammerheads, not them taking him _seriously_.

Not that he wasn’t being serious when he’d told Angus more or less the same thing in person. It’s just there’s a difference between a spur-of-the-moment response and this collection of questions just… staring him down, waiting.

The room has grown dark around him by the time he finishes skimming the letters. A couple stand out as candidates for the column, but it’s—hard. He almost wishes he could skip ahead in the course and actually _read_ unit seven to see what it says about column writing and if there’s anything on how writing an advice column isn’t actually as easy as Taako was lead to believe.

Taako stuffs his favourite letters into his tote bag to deal with later and flops back against his pillows, staring up at the ceiling.

Lucretia probably still thinks he’s a slacker with the easiest job on the paper. Even when she’s trying to play _nice_ —or at least play professional—she makes it clear that she doesn’t think much of him. Taako’s self-actualized enough to admit that he prefers not to put much effort into things if he has the option, but still. She could at least come out and admit she doesn’t think he’s worth the effort of trying to whip into shape. That would be less insulting than the uncomfortable half-truce they have now.

Taako pulls the tie out of his hair and starts working it loose from its braid, contemplating his options. All of the sudden, five days doesn’t seem like enough time to write the column. Maybe he can convince Angus to have another bullying problem for him to solve. Or just follow the Hammerheads around and get them to make a bad choice he can make fun of. That would be easy.

He’s interrupted in the middle of working a knot out of his hair by someone knocking on the door.

Taako glances at his clock as he tries to free his fingers. It’s eleven, which isn’t _late-_ late, but is definitely past curfew. Considering Lup’s room is in an entirely different building, Taako’s not sure who the fuck is sneaking out of bed to bother him.

Taako unfolds himself and rolls off the bed, kicking stuff out of his way as he makes it to the door and pulls it open.

Magnus is on the other side.

“Hey,” Taako says. “Uh, what the fuck?”

Magnus beams at Taako, glances up and down the dark, empty hallway, and then leans in close. “Can I come in?” he asks, in a kind of whisper-yell. “I have… a proposal.”

Today is a weird day.

Taako squints at Magnus, trying to parse what could possibly make _Magnus Burnsides_ show up at his door in the middle of the night and ask to come into his private dorm. Like, okay, apparently Taako’s outburst last week rolled right off Magnus like water off a duck’s back, but this is _still weird_. Has Taako _drastically_ misread the situation here? Magnus’s best friend is a lesbian, so maybe.

“Okay. Look, Maggie, no offense, but you are just… not my type,” Taako says, after a moment. “I mean, technically, I guess you’d qualify—you’re a dude, and Taako is into dudes—but I just… don’t see you that way?”

Magnus goes wide-eyed. “Oh, no,” he says. “No, no, no. That… no.” He pauses. “Not that—I mean, I don’t mean—yes. Me too. With you. I like you as a friend.”

Taako eyes Magnus for a moment longer, wondering if maybe he should be offended. This is the second time in a week he’s gotten this reaction. And besides that—friends? Is that really what they are? Taako’s _pretty sure_ he’d remember befriending Magnus Burnsides. “A friend,” he repeats. “A week ago I told you to fuck off from my lunch table.”

Magnus makes a face, like it’s just an awkward blip they’re supposed to be ignoring or something. “Yeah,” he says, and shrugs. “It’s okay. Everyone has bad days.”

Magnus Burnsides is a _wild_ individual and Taako has no fucking clue what his deal is, but apparently it currently involves some secret curfew breaking shit and Taako is, if nothing else, curious. He steps to the side so Magnus can come in. “Glad we’re on the same page, my man.”

“Cool.” Magnus walks into the room and Taako flicks on the lights so he can shut the door without leaving Magnus in darkness.

“So again,” Taako says, hands on his hips. “What the fuck? I need my beauty sleep.”

“Don’t elves meditate?” Magnus asks, looking over the clothing and other belongings scattered over Taako’s floor. “Man, I wish I had a single.”

“Should have terrorized more people. Elves _can_ meditate, but some of us prefer sleeping. The question, Maggie.”

“Oh, right.” Magnus looks at Taako and grins, all of his initial delight immediately back in full force. “I need a partner in crime,” he says. “Preferably one with magic powers.”

“And… your friends were busy?” Taako reaches up to try and sort out the mess that is his hair right now. Appearing in front of people he doesn’t really know while looking disheveled isn’t his brand.

Magnus shrugs. “I didn’t really think about asking anyone else. Can I at least tell you what it’s for before you say no? I promise it’s fun.”

Taako doubts it, but he’s maybe a _little_ curious. “Okay, shoot,” he says, gesturing towards Magnus. “Tell me what you’ve got.”

“You know Carey? Well, we’ve kind of got… I mean, we’re _best friends_ , but we’ve kind of got… a war going on,” Magnus says. “A prank war.”

Taako doesn’t think he’s ever actually _seen_ someone with a twinkle in their eye before, but Magnus is definitely projecting twinkle at him right now. “A… prank war?”

“Yeah! So it started with just, like, kick me signs and spitballs and breaking into each others’ lockers and stuff, but then we started doing… more things? Like gluing each others’ textbook pages together or the hand in warm water while you’re sleeping trick. You know. Yesterday Carey got someone to enchant my pants so every time I sat they made a fart sound. It was _hilarious_.” Magnus laughs like he can’t quite help himself. “So _I_ was thinking, if one of my magic friends would help, maybe I could… also do something great.”

“And you thought of me, not Lup?” Taako is honestly kind of flattered. And he can _definitely_ think of good goofs to pull off with magic. He’s great at them. He used plenty on Leon, back in the wild throes of his youth.

“Yeah. I mean, Lup’s awesome, but I felt like you’d have more fun with it,” Magnus says, shrugging. “Plus, uh, I don’t need Carey set on fire?”

Taako can’t help it, he laughs. “Shit, yeah. That’s true. Lup would just try and smoke her out,” he says, grinning. “Okay. Okay. Did you have an _idea_ , or was your idea just _magic_?” He wiggles his fingers at Magnus.

Magnus’s hesitation says all Taako needs to know.

“Of course.” Taako waves his hand dismissively. “You’re in luck. I made Leon cry with my excellent sense of humour. I’ve got you. Now explain—why did you need to come ask me in the middle of the fucking night?”

“Well, I was going to ask earlier, but then Lup started teaching me pool and I got distracted, and then it seemed like being a bad influence to mention it in front of Ango at dinner.” Magnus shrugs. “And... I want to do it tonight because it’s the perfect time.”

Taako turns to look at his clock again. It’s 11:13PM. “You want to sneak out and go pull a prank on her _now_? Like… wake her up with some flashy illusion spell? I could do that, but it’s, uh, kind of... boring.”

“Yeah, no. Not that. Carey’s… not in her dorm tonight? Noelle said she’d let me in as long as I promised not to do anything to her stuff. She’s Carey’s roommate.”

“How do you know she’s not going to be there?” Taako asks. “Maybe that’s part of your prank war. She’s trying to trick you.”

Magnus shakes his head. “Her girlfriend Killian has a private room. It’s date night.”

Right. Taako’s can pick up what Magnus is laying down. “Cool. One second.” Taako walks across the room to grab his abandoned hair tie from the bed, twisting his hair up into a bun, and pick up his wand. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go show your best friend in the whole world that a whoopee cushion spell is amateur hour. Taako’s here to win the war.”

*

They make their way across the quad in the dark. It’s not hard for Taako, with his nightvision, but Magnus is a human and keeps looking around wide-eyed, like maybe if he make his eyes _bigger_ he’ll see better. Casting Light is risky. Taako doesn’t want to get suspended—or worse, expelled—if they get caught, and he knows he’s on thin ice.

He reaches out and grabs Magnus’s elbow after the third time Magnus nearly trips over his own feet. “My dude, grab my shoulder and calm yourself,” he says. “It’s not far.”

It really isn’t. The girls’ dorms beckon them from across the quad with many softly glowing windows, despite it officially being past lights out. It’s not even midnight yet, so although their classmates might not be in the common areas, there are definitely lots of people awake.

Lup probably is, somewhere in there.

“Carey’s dorm is on the third floor,” Magnus whispers, even though there’s no one outside but them. “You know how to get in the side stairs?”

“We don’t need the side stairs,” Taako says, snorting.

He doesn’t bother with the front doors either, because the front doors to both dormitory buildings are locked after curfew and every boarder worth their salt knows they’re enchanted with an alarm that goes off in the dorm supervisor’s room if anyone tries to open the door—from either inside or outside the building—although thwarting a platonic best friend and a random gay elf on a prank mission probably _wasn’t_ what the school administration had in mind when they put the spells in place.

Taako stops in front of the building and cracks his knuckles. “Okay, big boy. Which room is hers?”

Magnus hesitates, peering up at the row of windows on the third floor, then points to the fourth window on the left. “That one, I think. Why? What are you going to—”

Taako draws his wand and casts Levitate. Magnus lifts off the ground, letting out a truncated yelp as he floats upwards.

Taako casts the spell on himself too and bounces up to grab Magnus, grinning. “You wanted magic, right? You’ve got it,” he says, and grabs hold of the side of the building so he can pull their floating forms up between the windows, to the room Magnus said was Carey’s.

When they reach it, Taako very carefully lets go of the wall so he can knock on the glass.

After a moment, the window slides up and Julia Waxmen pokes her head out, looking very, very confused.

“Taako?” Julia glances at Magnus beside him. “Magnus? What… are you up to?”

Taako looks back at Magnus. “You don’t even know which room is your best friend’s?”

Magnus’s face is so red Taako’s pretty sure even Julia, with her human eyesight, can tell he’s blushing. “I… uh… I guess not?”

“Carey and Noelle have the room across the hall from mine,” Julia says. “Seriously, though. What’s up?”

“Magnus and Carey have a prank war,” Taako says. “He’s got me casting a spell on her stuff.”

Julia’s eyebrows raise.

“Carey escalated it first!” Magnus says, like Taako just tattled on him to the teacher or something. “She made me wear fart pants all day yesterday.”

Like Taako tattled on him to the _kindergarten_ teacher.

Julia stares at the two of them for so long Taako thinks she’s about to close her window and make them climb around the building until they find a sympathetic person who’ll let them in, but then she bursts out laughing and moves back, waving them in.

“Holy _shit_ , that’s ridiculous,” she says, sitting on the edge of her bed. “You can cross through the hall so you don’t float off into the sky or something.”

“The spell would end before we got too far,” Taako says, shuffling along so he can push Magnus in through the window. He crawls into the room himself, then ends the spell on both of them.

Magnus falls to the floor with a thud that sends Julia into another fit of laughter. Taako lands on his feet like a cat, thank you very much.

Julia Waxmen has a private room, because of course she does, but it’s much neater than Taako’s. The floor is visible, for a start. Her walls are plastered with posters for some band Taako’s never heard of—The Voidfish?—and there’s a haphazard pile of school books on her desk.

She’s got her hair up in a messy bun and is wearing oversized flannel pajamas. They’re fuzzy from frequent washing, bright orange, and printed with tiny cartoon dogs. The colour is flattering against Julia’s dark skin and she looks cozy and completely at ease perched on the edge of her bed.

When Magnus picks himself up off the floor, he stares at her like she’s the only other person in the world.

“You two are a _disaster_ ,” Julia says. “What are you planning on doing to Carey?”

Taako glances at Magnus, who definitely _is_ a disaster and probably isn’t capable of forming a coherent answer right now. He sticks his wand behind his ear. “I was thinking pocket pudding,” he says.

“Pocket pudding?” Julia’s got half a smile on her face already. It’s good that she’s willing to take his bait.

“Yep,” Taako says. “Cha’boy is a transmutation _genius_. She’ll be walking around and suddenly _poof_ —pockets full of pudding.”

Magnus lets out a delighted giggle of a laugh. “Holy shit, Taako. That’s _amazing_.”

“Fart pants. Boring.” Taako waves a dismissive hand. “She’s not going to know what hit her, my dude. Taako is going all out.”

It’ll burn a lot of spell slots to make the concept work the way he wants it to, but Taako’s planning on taking a long snooze after this, so what better time to try? If he’s going to exert himself for the sake of a goof, then it’s going to be a _good_ goof.

Julia laughs too and gets up off the bed. “Does Noelle know what you’re doing?” she asks. “Do you need me to distract her for you? I can do that.”

“She’s in on it,” Taako promises. “As long as we don’t touch her stuff.”

“Oh yeah, for sure. If you ever fill any of my pockets with pudding I’ll get Lup’s permission to string you up from the bleachers,” Julia says, crossing the room. “But it’s _awesome_.”

She opens the door and sticks her head out, looking up and down the dark hall.

Given that she’s _human_ and her darkvision is zero, Taako’s not sure _why_ , but it does seem appropriately dramatic. Taako can appreciate doing something for the drama of it.

“Okay,” Julia says. “You can climb back out my window on your way out, if you want.”

“Thanks.” Taako gives her a lazy salute and steps into the hallway. He crosses to Noelle and Carey’s room, knocking softly as Magnus shuffles out behind him.

“Yeah, um. Thank you. Julia,” Magnus says, all stitled and weird because he apparently can’t hold a normal conversation with someone he likes.

Noelle, a halfling girl with bright red hair, opens the door, looks at Taako and Magnus standing there, then cocks her head at Julia. “Y’all are in on these shenanigans now too?”

“They thought my room was yours,” Julia says. “Came in through the window. I’ll let them back out when they’re done if you want.”

“If you don’t mind, I think that would be good, hon. Your window’s closer to the quad.”

“Nah. I kind of want to know how this goes. Could be a mess.” Julia grins. “Could be awesome. That’s probably a long shot, but we’ll see. Good luck.” With that vote of confidence, Julia shuts her door.

Noelle turns her attention to Taako and Magnus, eyebrows raised. “Boys. We’re clear on the not touching any of my stuff rule, right?”

“Cross my heart. Taako crosses his too,” Magnus promises. “Please let us in, Noelle. Taako’s a genius.”

“Yeah, Noelle,” Taako says, preening. “Let us in. I’m a _genius._ ”

“Uh-huh.” Noelle, dressed in an oversized Jeff Angel t-shirt and sweats, moves out of the way so they can enter. “Just remember, if Carey asks specific questions I’m going to tell her the truth. I’m only letting this happen because I know she’s into the pranks.”

The dorm’s aesthetics aren’t divided precisely in half, but it’s still obvious which side of the room is Noelle’s and which is Carey’s. Noelle has a framed photo of a very large, very ginger family on her desk, which is lined with a surprising number of meticulously painted robot figurines.

“She’s going to _love_ this. She’ll be so confused,” Magnus says, as he wanders towards the little line of robots like a moth towards a flame, reaching out to touch them.

Noelle slaps his hand before he can make contact. “Don’t you dare, Magnus. You break them every time.”

“I don’t _mean_ to,” Magnus says. “I just don’t know my own strength.”

“Well I do, and your strength isn’t breaking any more of my mechs. Go sit on Carey’s bed. Taako, you need anything?”

Taako stops to think about it as he surveys Carey’s side of the room. Her wall is covered in Battlefest posters. Lup’s article is up there too, and Taako smiles at it for a moment because Lup did good.

The magic he’s planning is complex. He’s pretty sure he can handle it, but it won’t be a short visit.

“You got some chips or anything lying around?” he asks, after thinking through the practicalities of filling the pockets of every item of Carey’s clothing with pudding. “Doesn’t _need_ to be chips. I just need bits of food to cast the spells on.”

“Spells?” Magnus repeats, sitting down on Carey’s bed and settling back against her pillows. It’s nice that he’s getting comfortable to watch Taako do all the work here.

Taako snorts. “Oh yeah, my dude. We’re talking more than one spell slot here. Making pudding? Easy. Making pudding that’ll only appear as a surprise? Much harder.”

Noelle glances from Taako to Magnus the two of them. “Pudding,” she repeats. “Okay, I think I’m good for information now.” She gestures towards Carey’s bedside table. “Carey keeps snacks on hand. She’s got a whole ton of hard candies in there. That work?”

“Hard candies!” Magnus repeats, grinning and pulling the drawer open immediately. “Fuck yes.”

“Unless you think eating your friend’s candy is a prank, don’t you dare,” Taako says. “I need those if you want pocket pudding.”

“You know what?” Noelle says. “I’m going to go paint Julia’s nails. Y’all come get us when you’re done. Magnus, do _not_ touch my mechs or I’ll rat you out.”

“Yes ma’am,” Magnus promises, after shooting the little robots a longing look.

Noelle opens her desk and grabs a couple bottles of polish before leaving.

Taako waits until the door closes behind her, then claps his hands together. “Candies, big guy. Let’s get this done while I’m still young and beautiful.”

“Right, sorry.” Magnus fishes the bag of candy from the drawer and tosses it to Taako. “So what are you doing?”

Taako opens up Carey’s closet to take stock of her uniform situation. As far as clothing with pockets goes, Carey’s got two skirts, two pairs of pants, a blazer, and a cardigan. It’s potentially a lot of spell slots to burn—Magnus carrying him back to the dorms levels of spell slots—but maybe _one_ pocket full of pudding in some pieces of her uniform is enough. Maybe a couple of items with two pockets. General chaos to make this whole thing harder to figure out.

“What does Carey usually wear?” Taako asks, taking a seat on the floor and picking half a dozen candies out of the bag. He begins to unwrap them because Taako’s not transmuting plastic into food. Sugar, though, the candy to pudding—totally doable.

“For her uniform? Uh, I guess she likes skirts. She says the girls’ pants are bad.”

“They are,” Taako agrees. “And they’re huge on you no matter what unless you can afford to get them tailored. We get better pant options. Lup just buys boy pants. Lots of girls do. You need to be quiet for a bit while I think about this.”

What Taako’s proposing to do is a complex bit of spellwork. It’s layers and triggers and there’s a part of him that wonders if he should try casting it once and breaking up a candy to see if the pieces will all retain the spell. It would produce smaller quantities of pudding, but if he played around with the enlargement spell he’s going to have to weave into this _anyway_ , boosted it, then maybe…

He frowns down at the candy in front of him. Too complex. Stick to the basics.

Taako grabs his wand from behind his ear. He can _almost_ see how the magic needs to fit together. If he doesn’t want the pudding to appear until Carey sticks her hand into her pocket, then it needs to be delayed. A timed spell doesn’t work because he doesn’t know when Carey will wear each piece of clothing, so it should be touch activated, but not the _first_ touch because that would be obvious and probably end up setting them all off at once.

His frown starts, slowly, to shift into a grin.

The best option is a random number of touches for each candy plus leaving unspelled candies in her pockets too so Carey won’t know which is a ticking pudding time bomb and which isn’t.

“Okay,” he says. “Fuck it. Let’s try this.”

Taako layers the spells up like an onion—a spell to enlarge, set to go off after the candy transmutes into pudding, which is set to trigger after the candy’s been handled three times. He drops his wand and picks the green candy up in his left hand, tosses it to his right.

“Hey,” Taako says, glancing up at Magnus, who’s now half-asleep on Carey’s bed. “Catch.”

Taako throws the candy to Magnus and Magnus reaches up to catch it like it’s instinctual. As soon as Magnus’s fingers closes around the candy, it explodes in his hand. Lime pudding squelches out from between his fingers, running down his arm.

Magnus looks utterly stunned. Taako smirks at him, sitting back to admire his handiwork.

“Holy shit, Taako,” Magnus says, and then brings his hand to his mouth so he can lick some of the pudding off. “That’s the most awesome thing I’ve ever _seen_.”

Taako laughs. “Too fucking _right_ it is.”

He picks up his wand and gets to work on the rest of the candies. If some of his spells are cast at an inappropriately high level to make this workable, that’s fine. He’s committed to the bit now. It drains him, but Taako wants to do this _right_. Do it _well_ so everyone who finds out if was him realizes that Taako’s good at more than languages. Taako’s a dope wizard too, especially at transmutation, especially if there’s food involved. Magnus found the perfect outlet for all his magical gifts to be expressed at once.

Or, well, he came up with a good excuse for Taako to find one.

Taako manages seven more candies before he hits his limit, all while Magnus fishes out a towel to clean himself and the floor with, and starts playing with Noelle’s robots.

Taako tucks his wand into his bun and grabs a few more candies, unwrapping them and then scooping the whole lot up. It’s more fun if he loses track of which are cursed now too.

When Taako stands, he almost goes straight back down again. He has to grab Carey’s desk, his vision narrowing and blurring, going black for a solid thirty seconds because _shit_ —maybe he didn’t quite stop casting when he should have. “Fuck.”

When the black clears and everything comes back into focus, Magnus is at his side. “Taako? You good?”

“Course.” Taako shakes himself out of it. Kind of. He grabs hold of the closet door to keep himself standing and slips candies into Carey’s pockets. “Some of these are enchanted and some aren’t. Thought I’d keep it interesting. Keep her guessing.”

“That’s so _smart_.”

Taako forces a grin. Definitely should have stopped at six candies. “Of course it is. I’m _Taako_.”

Magnus laughs. “I knew you were the person to ask about th—”

The world suddenly goes sideways and Magnus cuts himself off. It’s all very confusing until Taako’s brain catches up with his body—accompanied by a headache blindsiding him—and he realizes that his knees gave out and Magnus only just managed to catch him before he brained himself on the closet door.

“Shit,” Taako says. His words sound distant, slurred. “Spell slots.”

“You didn’t have to—what should I do?” Magnus asks. He sounds like he’s on the verge of panic, which is _very_ annoying. Taako’s the one about to pass out here, not him. What does Magnus need to panic about? “What do you need? A cleric?”

“Fuck no.” With Taako’s luck, the school will call Merle, and if the school calls Merle then he’ll will want to talk to Taako about this. Besides, Taako’s doesn’t need to go through whatever drama getting caught nearly knocking himself out after sneaking into the girl’s dorms with Magnus Burnsides would bring into his life. “Can’t get in trouble. I just need to sleep.”

“Right. Right. Rest. Shit.”

Magnus hooks his arms beneath Taako’s armpits and hikes him up, dragging him to the door and then shifting his grip so he’s holding Taako, arm looped around his chest, like he’s a doll. Magnus opens the door, does a cursory inspection of the hallway, then lugs him to Julia’s door and knocks.

Julia answers and her eyebrows fly up when she sees the state Taako’s in. “What did you _do_ to him?” she asks.

“Spell slots,” Taako repeats. “M’ _fine_.”

“You can’t stand on your own,” Magnus says, and his tone of voice is stupidly reasonable.

Taako rolls his eyes and squirms petulantly in his grasp, but doesn’t protest.

“I’m thinking the window isn’t a good idea,” Julia says. “Your boy doesn’t look up to the levitate thing, Magnus.”

“Feather Fall,” Taako says, because _please_. “I can do it.” He’s still got a level one spell in him, even if he does feel like passing the fuck out. Is it his _last_ spell slot? Yes, but also he didn’t think he’d be this drained when he finished setting Carey up for a week of pocket pudding.

Part of him hopes she tries to eat one of the loose hard candies floating around in her pockets. The image of her suddenly finding herself with a mouth full of pudding sends Taako into a giggling fit.

The giggling doesn’t help his case.

“You’re sure you can cast a spell on both yourself and Magnus and handle a jump out a third floor window right now,” Julia says, giving him a skeptical look.

“Julia, let them in the room at least. Taako’s giggling is going to wake someone up,” Noelle says, from behind her.

Julia nods and steps to the side so they can enter.

Magnus drags Taako in and places him on Julia’s bed. “Thanks,” he says, turning back to her. “He’s not very heavy, but he’s awkward to carry. Same height. Hey, uh. I like your nails.”

Julia looks down at her hands. The colour is nice, actually. A deep, glittering purple Taako quite likes.

Magnus is slowly turning red. Taako finds himself struggling to repress more giggles.

“Thanks,” Julia says. “How are we going to get you outside without killing your elf buddy?”

Taako rolls his eyes and sits up. He’s not a baby and he’s not drunk. He’s just—tired to the point of delirium. It’s _fine_. He reaches up to pull his wand out of his hair. It takes a couple tries to find it, but once he does he brandishes it at the room. “I can cast fucking Feather Fall.”

“Look, bud. I know you’re super good at magic, but I’m not sure it’s healthy for you to cast anymore spells tonight,” Magnus says, after exchanging glances with Julia and Noelle. “We’ll just sneak downstairs and… maybe out a window?”

Noelle nods. “That could work. The common room windows open pretty quietly and it’s on the first floor.”

Taako plants a hand on Julia’s headboard and heaves himself to his feet. His legs wobble, but hold. He takes a moment to give everyone in the room a triumphant look before carefully, painstakingly, making his way to the window. “I’m _fine_.”

It’s closed and there’s no way Taako’s got the coordination required to lift it and stay upright right now, but still. He’s kind of made his point.

Noelle, sweet-faced with half her toenails painted, gives Taako a critical once over, looks up at Magnus and Julia, and deals the finishing blow to Taako’s protests and his pride. “Why don’t we just get Lup?”

“No!” Taako says, a gut reaction. Lup will _kill_ him.

“Oh yeah, that’s a great idea,” Julia agrees. “She can cast the spell _and_ handle her brother.”

“Where’s her room?” Magnus asks. “I can go get her. I don’t want you to get in trouble. This was all my idea.”

Taako groans and lets himself slide down to the carpet again. Sitting feels much better than standing. They’re not listening to him anyway, might as well. “Fuck.”

“I’ll get her,” Julia says. “I can claim a field hockey emergency if I get caught. It’s cool.”

That doesn’t sound like a real thing to Taako, but what does he know?

Julia leaves on her new mission and Noelle picks the nail polish up to work on her toes again. Magnus walks over to Taako with a look on his face like he thinks Taako’s about the topple over for more than just a well-earned nap.

“How you doing, Taako?” he asks, crouching beside him. “Do I need to get you some water or something?”

“I’m fine,” Taako says, rolling his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with me. I just burned a lot of spell slots very fast. I’m feeling better already.”

“You sound better,” Magnus agrees, in possibly the _most_ patronizing tone Taako’s ever heard.

He rolls his eyes and leans his head back against the wall. “You’re not a teacher, my dude. Back off.”

“Sorry.” Magnus settles down on the floor beside Taako. “I’ve thought about being a teacher,” he says, after a moment of silence. “I think it would be kind of cool. Kids are fun. I coach this kid’s basketball team down at the Neverwinter Community Centre so I’ve got some experience. I thought about asking Lucretia if I could write about one of their games, maybe, but it’s not really related to the school so I don’t think she’d go for it.”

Taako hums noncommittally. He really does not give a fuck right now.

“I think you’d be a real good teacher, Magnus,” Noelle says. “Taako’s just grumpy because he’s tired. Trust me, I have a lot of baby cousins.”

“I am not _grumpy_ ,” Taako says, scowling up at the ceiling.

Julia’s door opens. Taako keeps looking at the ceiling, but he can tell her trip to retrieve Lup was successful. Mostly because Lup immediately marches across the small dorm to loom over him. “Hey, Taako? What the fuck?”

“Hi Lulu,” Taako says. “Is that my shirt?”

Lup’s wearing a t-shirt with a giant tiger face screen printed on it and a pair of terrycloth shorts in black. The shirt was definitely, definitely Taako’s first. 

“You wore this shirt out into the world, Taako. You didn’t deserve it and I’m not going to let you inflict it on my actual eyes on the weekends ever again,” Lup says. “And it’s soft. Julia tells me you burned yourself out making pudding.”

“Touch-triggered transmutation spell modified with Enlarge on a bunch of hard candies,” Taako says, because it’s not like she won’t figure it out when Carey discovers her pocket pudding.

Lup pauses for a moment. Taako grins up at her, watching for the moment when she figures out just how much work he’s put into this prank that he doesn’t _really_ give a shit about.

“What the _fuck_ ,” she says. “Holy shit, Taako.”

Taako would really like to break out finger guns right now, but raising his arms seems like a lot of work. He settles for widening the grin already on his face.

“This better be some epic pudding.” Lup looks at Magnus beside Taako. “I’m going to cast Feather Fall on the two of you so you can go out the window safely, then I’m going to go back to bed. You think you can handle getting Taako back to his room in one piece?”

“Yeah, no problem,” Magnus says. “I’ll just carry him.”

“You will _not_ ,” Taako says, pulling his eyes off the ceiling. “Excuse me? I’m still here.”

“Yeah,” Lup says, nodding. “Carrying him sounds like a good idea.”

Taako is unceremoniously hauled to his feet by his sister as Magnus stands up.

“Good luck, boys,” Noelle says, from the floor. “Try not to get caught.”

“Yeah, next time go for the right window,” Julia says, taking a seat on her bed. “As fun a night as this turned out to be.”

“Next time, don’t be an idiot,” Lup tells Taako, and shoves him into Magnus’s arms.

They tumble out the window together and for a sickening moment it feels _very_ final, but then Lup’s spell catches them and they float the rest of the way down, bouncing harmlessly to the grass below.

The spell drops and Magnus turns to wave at Lup leaning out Julia’s window. Taako flips her off and she laughs as she shuts it on them.

“Right,” Magnus says. “Let’s make this work.”

“I don’t know why I agreed to help you,” Taako grumbles, attempting to stand on his own as Magnus yanks him up like a sack of potatoes. “I get a little tired and everyone acts like I’m a baby who can’t take care of himself.”

“Well,” Magnus says. “I _mean_ —”

Taako summons all his remaining strength to hit Magnus’s shoulder, even though it means giving up on trying to get steady on his own feet for the moment.

“Oh, yeah! That’s a good idea,” Magnus says, not even pretending to flinch for Taako’s benefit. “Put your arms around my neck. I’ll just carry you on my back. I do it with kids from the Community Centre all the time.”

Taako makes a face, but being carried back to the dorms doesn’t sound like the _worst_ idea right now, and a piggyback ride is moderately more dignified than being slung over Magnus’s shoulder or hauled around like groceries. “Yeah, okay.”

Magnus turns his back to Taako and stoops a little. Taako loops his arms around Magnus’s neck and hops up, so Magnus can grab his legs. When he does, Magnus straightens, takes a few cautious steps forward, testing their mutual balance. When Taako doesn’t slip, he picks up the pace, headed for their building.

Taako only remembers Magnus’s shitty, shitty darkvision when Magnus nearly trips over a tree root.

“Fuck,” Taako says, tightening his grip and hurriedly casting Light on Magnus’s shirt. It’s not the most subtle move, and he _still_ doesn’t want to get caught and expelled, but not wanting to _die_ wins over the expulsion thing. “If you drop me, I’m burning my last spell slot Magic Missiling your ass.”

Magnus laughs like he doesn’t believe Taako is one hundred percent serious and, now that he can see, takes off at a run towards the dorms.

If Taako has to bite his lip to keep from laughing along with Magnus as they book it across the quad, he can always blame it on the delirium.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed this particular long chapter! 
> 
> First, can I direct you to [this absolutely perfect picture of Kravitz the teenage barista](http://lexicals.tumblr.com/post/168552223691/very-quick-and-messy-bit-of-fanart-for-marywhals) by lexicals?? Please, please go look, like, and reblog. His _braces_!! It's amazing.
> 
> Second, foxy-alien has also gifted the world with [their depiction of Kravitz with braces](https://foxy-alien.tumblr.com/post/168702253632/im-obsessed-with-marywhal-fic-bury-the-lead), and he is also beautiful and valid. I'm _so glad_ y'all hopped on the brace face bandwagon with me.
> 
> Thank you for all the great questions that y'all have submitted so far! Four reader questions will appear in next week's chapters. There will be more reader questions included in future chapter as well, so definitely keep submitting them if you've got 'em. Also, following a question from Blizardstar, _absolutely_ you can submit these "in-character" as someone from the TAZ universe.
> 
> As always, I can be found on tumblr (where I respond much faster): [@marywhal](http://marywhal.tumblr.com)
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter, please comment and leave a kudos! The next chapter will be out on Thursday.


	7. Bad Break

_ Bad Break: A word that is incorrectly hyphenated, or broken, at the end of a line of text. _

*

Taako wakes up face down on top of his covers. His mouth tastes awful and he’s still in his clothes, shoes and all. He turns his head to look at the clock, blinking as he tries to make the positioning of the hands make sense.

They steadfastly refuse to.

Taako pushes himself upright and rubs his eyes, trying again. He stares at the clock, then looks out his window at the bright, sunny day waiting for him, then back at the clock.

“It’s not _two-thirty_ ,” he tells it, because what the _fuck_?

Yeah, maybe he burned a bunch of spell slots all at once, and maybe he needed to sleep that off, but he certainly didn’t need _over twelve hours_ to make up for it. Taako likes sleep, sure, but this is pushing it even for him.

It’s a good thing Lup saw him half-drunk from exhaustion in Julia’s room or she’d be breaking down his door to kill him for missing a full day of classes.

Which, actually, _fuck_ —Taako’s on thin ice right now, and part of keeping that ice frozen is going to his appointments with Merle, one of which he’s about to be late for.

He doesn’t bother changing. It might be a wrinkled mess, but he’s still technically in uniform. Taako does a bad job fixing his bun, wipes smudged eyeliner and mascara from around his eyes with a tissue, and grabs his bag on his way out the door. He’d sort himself out with a couple spells, but he’s wary of throwing magic around when he’s only just woken up from over exerting himself so bad he apparently had to sleep for half a day to make up for it. Seems risky.

Taako doesn’t _rush_ to Merle’s office, but he doesn’t take his time either. Everyone else is heading into the dorms as he’d heading out, which means classes are over and he’s definitely fucked, but maybe he can pull off pretending he caught Ren’s illness. He tries an artistic sniff as he pulls open the door to the main school building. Going straight from bed to a mandated appointment with Merle isn’t the best look, but if he’s _ill_ then what can anyone say about it, really? It’s just proof that he’s sick as fuck. He put on yesterday’s uniform he’s so out of it.

When Taako reaches Merle’s office, the door is closed. Taako hesitates outside it, glances up and down the hallway, and then at the stupid paper leaves taped to it. _Truth_ stares back at him like it’s taunting him.

There are voices inside. Merle and someone else, someone who sounds familiar, although Taako can’t make out what they’re talking about or who it is.

He takes a step closer, ears perking up as he leans in to try and pick up the conversation on the other side. Taako _did_ flagrantly violate a whole host of rules the night before, so it’s possible Magnus or Julia or Noelle is in there tattling. He needs to know who so he can plan his counterarguments and shift blame.

And, honestly, he’s nosey.

When he hears the sound of his own name, Taako picks up on who it is—not Magnus or Julia or Noelle or even Lup. It’s Lucretia.

“—and doesn’t take anything seriously,” she says. “He doesn’t actually care about the paper at all. He thinks it’s an easy way to get out of doing actual work. And you can _tell_. You can tell he doesn’t care that the paper is important to other people.”

“To you,” Merle says.

“Not _just_ me. Even Lup is invested in it now. She came and asked if she could do more investigative work and her writing’s really good, so of course I said yes. Taako hasn’t shown any initiative. He storms out of meetings half the time. I don’t even know why he’s still on the paper, honestly. He did his column. He’s taking the course. He should just leave if he hates it that much, but of course he hasn’t because he’s the most entitled person at this school. He expects everyone to bend over backwards to accommodate him and I can’t _stand_ the way everyone just _does_.”

Taako’s hands tighten into fists at his sides.

It’s not like he’s surprised. He knew Lucretia’s whole _professional_ thing was just a passive-aggressive fuck you directed at him. She hasn’t changed her mind at all when it comes to Taako and who _she_ thinks he is.

Merle, at least, knows Taako well enough to tell Lucretia to go fuck herself. In a professional way, because he’s a teacher, but still.

“Taako can be frustrating,” Merle says. “Sometimes you need to stop and think about how he approaches the world. He has a sideways way of coming at things that can be… hard to follow, so—”

Taako jerks away from the door like he’s been burned.

It’s not like—Taako’s not a fool. It’s not like he thought the school counselor was his friend. That would be ridiculous and sad. Merle’s paid to spend time with him. Merle’s a weird old beach dwarf with bad fashion sense and a _thing_ for plants. Taako wouldn’t _want_ him as a friend anyway.

And Lucretia’s Lucretia.

Taako suppresses the urge to lash out against the _ridiculousness_ of Lucretia complaining about Taako’s entitlement, to do something dramatic like fling open the door to Merle’s office. Taako doesn’t rush into confrontations. He’ll play the long game with her. Let her think whatever she wants. Lucretia’s the one who expects him to act like she’s _Madam Editor_ and give her more respect than he gives most teachers, despite the fact that since their first conversation she’s made it clear that she thinks he exists solely to make her life more difficult.

Taako’s feet move away from Merle’s office without conscious input from Taako, despite all the aggressive _not caring_ he’s doing. He’s always known Lucretia didn’t like him. It’s fine with him that Merle’s only move to defend Taako was to—basically—call him weird. Fuck Merle too. Taako’s taking a sick day from counselling too. He doesn’t need this.

Taako heads to the student lounge because that’s where Lup’s likely to be, with no field hockey practice and no Starblaster meeting scheduled. She’s probably worried about him, considering the last time she saw him he was half-delirious and Magnus was giving him a piggyback across campus in the middle of the night.

He pauses outside the student lounge and takes a breath. He already looks like a mess. He doesn’t need to walk in looking like he’s about to burn a spell slot too.

Taako steps inside. It’s busy and Lup isn’t on one of their usual couches. There’s a brief moment where Taako thinks _of course_ Lup isn’t there, she probably went to check on him after class, but then he hears her laugh and his head jerks towards the sound.

Lup is at the pool table. She’s got her hand on her hip, watching the game play. Magnus is beside her and Barry is bent over the table, trying to line up a shot. Someone’s pulled a chair to the side of the table so Angus can stand on it to see clearly. He’s holding the other pool cue in his little hand.

So. Not that worried about him then. Not even Magnus, who Taako exhausted himself for.

Taako watches Barry completely fuck up his shot, watches Lup shove his shoulder affectionately and Barry blush and grin up at her, looking pleased despite the failure. Magnus maneuvers himself around the table, then turns to Lup as she started instructing him on how to change up his stance.

It’s all very cute. Very friendly. They look like they’re having a great time without him.

Taako is not in the mood for any of this. He turns on his heel and gets the fuck out of there. He’s _good_ out here, good away from the happy-go-lucky shenanigans going on in the student lounge, good away from everyone acting like they’re friends.

Maybe they are. Maybe all that newspaper time has made Lup bond with everyone. Lucretia said something about Lup coming to talk to her about other stories, hadn’t she? Lup hadn’t told Taako she wanted to do something different at the paper. Even though Taako was the entire reason she was part of it in the first place. So they could spend more time together.

That’s not exactly working out the way it’s supposed to, is it?

*

Taako doesn’t go back to his room because he refuses to sit around feeling sorry for himself, waiting for Lup to show up. Besides, he’s already spent too long in bed today. Instead, he heads for The Davy Lamp. The Davy Lamp has Ren and Ren will give him free coffee and let him sit in his chair and—something. Do fucking… crossword puzzles from their collection of newspapers nobody reads if he has to. Ren will take one look at his face and his rumpled clothes and give him a massive cup of caffeine and sugar to soothe his fucking soul.

It feels like a personal attack when Taako walks into the coffee shop and Ren’s not behind the bar.

Kravitz is there, alone, and The Davy Lamp is packed. It’s packed, and half the people crowding the shop, occupying _all_ of the charmingly eclectic furniture, are students from Neverwinter High. Kids who Taako has never, in his life, seen here before. He ignores the six people waiting in line and strides to the front, interrupting Kravitz taking the order of some hipster elf in an ugly poncho.

“What the fuck is happening here?” Taako asks. There is some tiefling girl in _his_ chair. She’s got a pile of books and a full cup of coffee on the little table beside her and is apparently here for the long haul.

“Taako, hello,” Kravitz says, in his fake accent. He glances at the line Taako just skipped. “Fantasy Starbucks had a pipe burst. It’s—I’ve never had a rush like this before. I’ll be with you in a minute. Just let me get through this line first. Ren’s out today and it’s just—a lot. It’s a lot of people.”

Kravitz turns back to the elf in front of him again. “Sorry, Ash. The usual?”

Taako looks at poncho Ash beside him. Taako doesn’t like the look of poncho Ash, and not just because they’re wearing a fucking _poncho_ like they think they’re fantasy John Wayne getting ready for high noon or something.

“Ren’s out?” Taako repeats. “Why?”

“I—don’t know. You’re her best friend, Taako. Don’t you know?” Kravitz asks.

The shaky hold Taako has on his emotions slips. “Someone would have to fucking _talk_ to me for me to know anything,” he snaps. His voice definitely comes out too loud and it just keeps getting louder the more he talks. “Instead of just blowing me off or talking about me behind my back or passive-aggressively wishing I’d fuck off and leave them alone!”

The Davy Lamp is suddenly _deathly_ quiet. Taako’s chest is heaving. He keeps his eyes locked on Kravitz. He can feel people staring at him like he’s crazy. Like he’s the kind of person who shouts at a barista in the middle of a coffee shop for no reason after skipping a long line.

He might have just done all those things, but fuck these people, his audience. They don’t know him. Even the ones who go to Neverwinter High don’t _know_ him. They, especially, don’t.

Kravitz looks shocked, which—no fucking kidding. Taako spends most of his time around Kravitz flirting, not yelling in his face for shitty reasons.

Taako keeps his eyes on Kravitz and a large part of that is because he doesn’t want to know how everyone else is looking at him right now.

Kravitz puts the cup in his hands down. He comes out from behind the counter, as people slowly, slowly start to talk again. Taako’s hands are shaking at his sides. He feels scrutinized and exposed and he hates it. 

Kravitz lays his hands on Taako’s shoulders and pushes him towards the door to the backroom. Taako takes one step forward, then another. He lets his feet carry him in the direction Kravitz guides him in, through the door.

Ren’s never let Taako into the backroom before. Not that he’s ever _asked_ or anything. It’s lined with metal shelves of stock, mostly bags of coffee, but also extra to-go cups and lids, bags of sugar, tumblers with The Davy Lamp’s branding on them, extra aprons—everything the shop needs day-to-day.

There’s a couch, too, stained and looking worse for the wear. Kravitz guides him to it and presses down on his shoulders.

“Sit,” Kravitz says, in his normal voice. “I’ll be back with a drink and something for you to eat in a minute.”

Taako has no idea what’s going on right now. He doesn’t know why Kravitz didn’t tell him fuck off, like he should have, the minute he finished yelling.

Taako sits.

Kravitz leaves him there and Taako stares at the box of syrup bottles on the shelf in front of him without really seeing it. He feels tired and angry and _exhausted_ by that anger because it’s vicious and directionless. Kravitz didn’t deserve to be snapped at just because Taako’s not in the mood to deal with a line and someone in his favourite chair. Just because Ren’s not back at work yet. Just because his sister was having fun without him. Because Lucretia and Merle were talking about him behind his back.

Kravitz comes back and presses a warm mug into Taako’s hand. He sets a plated croissant down on the couch beside him. “Drink. Eat.”

“What is it?” Taako asks, raising the drink to his lips. It’s covered in whipped cream, which is promising.

“Hot chocolate,” Kravitz says. “If I leave you back here for a bit are you going to be okay? I need to help the customers.”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” Taako says. _Not_ being around people while he comes to terms with the temper tantrum he just threw in the middle of The Davy Lamp, in front of a bunch of people from school, sounds great. Taako looks down at the croissant beside him, then shifts his hot chocolate into one hand so he can pick it up. It feels dense, heavy in his hand. He waves it at Kavitz. “What’s this?”

“It’s… a croissant.”

Taako snorts and forces himself to actually look Kravitz in the eye, to act like a person. “A croissant should be made of butter and air, my man. This bready monstrosity is not a croissant. This is a crime against pastry.” He raises it to his mouth and takes a bite, ignoring the way it showers him in crumbs.

It’s a _really_ fucking bad croissant.

He chews and swallows anyway, because as soon as the croissant is in his mouth Taako realizes he hasn’t had anything to eat all day. That he hasn’t eaten anything since burning through nearly all his spell slots the night before.

Kravitz smiles, wide, flashing the braces he’s so self-conscious of, and a tension Taako hadn’t realizes was there eases in his chest. “I’ll be back once the rush dies down, okay?”

“Okay,” Taako agrees, and takes another bite of croissant. He waits until Kravitz’s back is turned and he’s almost out the door to add, “Thank you.”

Kravitz pauses for a moment, glances back at him with his smile widening. “Of course, mate,” he says, laying his fake accent on real thick, going completely over the top Cockney with it. “Make yourself at home.”

Taako laughs at the accent, and at how fucking _pleased_ with himself Kravitz looks to have made him laugh, then settles in on the couch to wait.

The croissant is shitty, but Taako savours it.

Food helps. So does the hot chocolate. He doesn’t feel as angry anymore, although he still doesn’t feel much affection for Lucretia or the paper. She doesn’t know anything about him, but she’s full of judgements about who he is.

Which is par for the course. That’s how people work, in Taako’s experience. They decide they know you based on assumptions they make before they ever talk to you. Lucretia probably decided how she felt about him long before they stood outside Davenport’s office together and convinced him to give the school paper one last shot.

Taako needs something to distract himself with, but there’s no newspaper crossword puzzles back here, and even if he knew what homework he needed to do to make up for missing classes today, all he’s got with him is his tote bag and yesterday’s coursework.

That, and a stack of questions from his readers.

If those readers knew the person they were writing to was the shitty teen elf who’d just had a breakdown in The Davy Lamp, they probably wouldn’t be as interested in his advice.

Taako fishes the letters out of his bag and reads them again. If Lucretia wants to accuse him of being lazy and unprofessional, Taako will let his desire to prove her wrong fuel him. He’ll answer a bunch of questions—more than the two or three The Starblaster can actually print—and let Lucretia choose which will run, act like he respects her whole Madam Editor shtick.

He doesn’t, but if Lucretia’s version of professional is open disdain for him, then Taako’s allowed to be passive-aggressively good at his job.

He leans back against the coffee-scented couch and starts to read the letters again, setting aside the ones he’s going to answer. His emotions are still a simmering mess, but they’re closer to the mess Taako’s used to, now that he’s had some food.

He’s got no better ideas for answering the questions today than he did yesterday, when he first read them, but he’s got time. He can—and does—sprawl out on the couch without getting dirty looks from other customers. The muffled sounds filtering through the closed backroom door—the low hum of conversation, the scrape of chairs against the shop’s wooden floors, the hiss of Kravitz steaming milk poorly—are soothing. It’s like when he and Lup were little, like travelling with caravans, where it was never quiet, not even at night. It’s a reminder that there are other people around, that even though Taako is on his own in the backroom right now, he’s not actually alone.

It’s nice. Peaceful.

Taako sets the letters in his hand down on his chest and spends a moment, just looking at the ceiling. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine he’s back with the caravans again, travelling, never settling down in one place, uncertain what his future holds.

*

When Taako wakes from a nap he doesn’t remember deciding to take, there’s a coat draped over him and the door between the backroom and the coffee shop is cracked open. Taako can’t hear the sounds of conversation or cups clinking against tables anymore, nothing except the sound of The Davy Lamp’s ratty upright piano—intended mostly for show—actually being played.

It’s the first time Taako’s heard anyone use it. He doesn’t know enough about music to know whether the thing is in tune or not, but the song being played is soft and gentle, almost sleepy. It meanders up and down the keys and Taako’s eyes slip shut again for a moment and he has to fight the urge to go back to sleep and force himself up, off the couch.

He keeps the coat for warmth, tugging it over his shoulders, and walks to the door.

Kravitz is playing the piano. The sleeves on his black shirt are rolled to his elbows and his vest is undone. His dreads are half-up, tucked into a neat bun at the back of his head. He’s taken his apron off and—despite the fanciness of his clothing in general—he looks relaxed. Comfortable. Maybe it’s being at the piano. Kravitz’s eyes are shut. His fingers move over the keys as easy as anything as he plays—lost to it, at peace. Taako’s never known a bard before—having Brad as a roommate he actively antagonized for a year doesn’t count—so maybe they’re all like this when they’re into their music. Maybe it’s just Kravitz and the particular song he’s playing.

Outside, it’s night. The shop is closed and Kravitz has turned off all the lights, but there’s a mug on top of the piano, spelled to cast a soft yellow glow in a small circle around where Kravitz is sitting.

Taako doesn’t want to interrupt, but Kravitz’s head cocks in his direction and then Kravitz opens his eyes and smiles. “You’re awake,” he says, and still playing.

“Yeah.” Taako steps out of the doorway. “You could have woken me up. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“I don’t mind staying late. The piano’s out of tune, but my roommates complain when I play my keyboard.” Kravitz hesitates. “Besides, it... seemed like you needed to sleep. You were…”

“Cranky,” Taako supplies, when Kravitz trails off. He walks to his armchair—nobody left to take it from him now—and drags it over beside the piano. Taako sits and slips off his shoes, bringing his legs up onto the seat so he can curl up under Kravitz’s coat. He assumes it’s Kravitz’s coat anyway. It’s black and the epaulets are embroidered with tiny ravens. It seems like a safe bet. “I was definitely cranky. This is the second time I’ve slept in these clothes. I did someone a favour last night and burned through most of my spell slots in about fifteen minutes. Slept through my classes today. I don’t know why I decided to take another nap. Elves don’t even _need_ real sleep.” Taako shrugs, leaning his head against the wing of the chair. “The croissant you fed me was the first thing I’d eaten since last night.”

Kravitz stops playing the piano, staring at Taako with… obvious concern. When Taako says it all out loud, all at once, maybe it _does_ sound like he’s kind of mess.

He gives Kravitz a stern look. “It was very important to me to set this dude’s best friend up so she’d randomly find her pockets full of pudding every time she reached into them for the next, like, week. Pranks are worth exhausting yourself over. Don’t look at me like that, bubelah.”

“You have a counselor and it’s not me, I know,” Kravitz says. “Just—burning through _all_ your spell slots at once is… a lot of magic.”

“I saved one. I was going to use Feather Fall so we could jump out the window and escape, but they ended up getting my sister to cast it.” And apparently Taako’s still bitter about Lup not coming to check on him after classes ended because he finds himself frowning as he talks about her, so _that’s_ a fun discovery.

“Neverwinter High sounds much more exciting than my high school.” Kravitz shifts on the piano bench so he’s facing Taako as he makes the very deliberate change in subject. “I didn’t have a lot of friends back home. Too… odd, I think.”

Taako snorts. “What, you? The guy who broke out a fake British accent for a job interview was _too odd_ for a bunch of shitty teenagers?”

Kravitz snorts. “Yeah, I suppose it’s not a big surprise when you put it like that. That’s… not exactly what I meant though.”

“Go on,” Taako says, motioning for Kravitz to continue because that’s definitely not where you stop when recounting your shitty high school experience. Kravitz hesitates, which only serves to make Taako _actually_ curious about what the fuck Kravitz did to make everyone think he was so weird. “Come on, my dude. You’re the one who started us down this path. What’d you do? Spray paint skulls on the gym floor? Performance art in the office? Did you talk to ghosts in class?”

“No, nothing like that,” Kravitz says, laughing. “You're going to think it's boring now. It’s... well, it wasn't so much something I _did_ and more… who I am. I was raised in the temple of the Raven Queen, by her order. My mother was a paladin and protector of the temple. When she passed, they took me in. There weren’t a lot of kids in Waterdeep that wanted to spend their time with someone who lived in the house of the goddess of death. Not a lot of parents who were into the idea either. Avoiding me was kind of an ingrained habit by the time we got to high school. It’s not something I’ve told a lot of people since starting at the conservatory. Or… anyone, actually.”

Taako takes in Kravitz’s appearance all over again. The amount of black he wears, the skull earrings, the _ravens_ he has embroidered on his coat, the… everything.

He can’t help it—he laughs.

“Holy shit, maestro. That’s the most goth thing I’ve ever heard,” Taako says. “No _wonder_ you dress like you’re constantly ready for a date with death. I mean, it’s a good look on you, but _fuck_.”

Kravitz chuckles and looks down at his hands. “We can’t all pull off pastels the way you can,” he says.

Taako snorts at that. “You could rock pastels. Don’t even trip. Have you seen your bone structure? Because I’m looking at it right now and it is _good_.”

Kravitz flushes and shrugs a shoulder, half-smiling at the compliment, doing that stupid thing where he tries to hide his braces like they aren’t cute. Like they don’t just tie his whole look together and make him seem like a real person and not just a figment of Taako’s fever dreams. “I do all right for myself,” he says. “You look good in your clothes. They work for you, but I like dark colours. Tailored things. The right clothing, the right outfit is like... having armour on to face the world, you know?”

“Yes!” Agreeing is almost a gut instinct with because—because _yes_ , he does know. That’s how he feels about clothing too. That’s why he doesn’t understand how some people can leave their room in sweats, without putting any effort into their appearance. Taako would feel way too exposed. Taako doesn’t like letting anyone he doesn’t trust near him before he has time to straighten up his shop in the morning. “I mean, not dark coloured suits or whatever for me, obviously. I bet you look smoking in them, but they’re not Taako’s jam. But… clothes, yeah. You can be anyone you want to be if you’ve got the right outfit. You can make people see you however you want them to see you. Clothes make you invincible one minute and invisible the next. They transform you. People think fashion’s frivolous, but that’s because they don’t _get_ it.”

Kravitz is nodding along, leaning forward on the bench. “Exactly,” he says. “They give you—power. Power like someone cast Enhance Ability on you, but it lasts all day.”

Taako laughs, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair that’s escaped his bun behind his ear. It’s occurring to him, now, that he must look like a mess. Look exactly the way he doesn’t _want_ people seeing him look. He’s been in the same clothes for days and no top knot in the world survives being slept on. Plus, there’s no _telling_ what his makeup looks like right now. “Next time someone talks about needing a cleric I’ll let them know what they really need is a makeover.”

“That’s why you should always opt for a bard. We're much better at the appearance stuff,” Kravitz says, shifting closer to Taako on the bench. Their eyes meet and Kravitz is smiling at him, full on now, braces exposed. Smiling like Taako isn’t a hot mess who drove himself to the point of exhaustion making pocket pudding. Like Taako hasn’t been wearing the same uniform for two days. Like Kravitz thinks Taako’s _charming_ and _funny_. Taako hasn’t even had to lie to earn that smile from him.

Taako shifts closer too, leaning forward in his chair, anticipation curling thick in his stomach. Kravitz’s eyes flick down to Taako’s lips.

The light goes out.

Taako lets out an embarrassing yelp. Made even more embarrassing because _he’s_ the one of them with darkvision. “Fuck,” he says. “Have you really had that spell going for an _hour_? What time is it, my dude?”

Kravitz blinks wide eyes in the dark. “I’m not… sure, actually.” He whistles a soft tune and the mug flares to life again.

Taako winces at the sudden shift in light, reaching up to rub his eyes as Kravitz fumbles an actual pocketwatch out of his vest. “It—oh,” he says, and the surprise in his voice can’t be a good thing. “It’s almost 10.”

Well. Lup has _definitely_ come looking for Taako by now and she’s definitely going to be pissed when he gets back. He can’t quite decide if the fact that it’s after curfew and she can’t physically get her hands on him until tomorrow is a good thing or a bad thing.

Probably a bad thing.

“Shit,” Taako says. “My sister is going to _kill_ me. I haven’t spoken to her since she saw me literally being carried back to my room last night.”

Kravitz swings a leg over the piano bench so he can stand. “We should go,” he says. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you stay here so long. I got caught up practicing and then just—talking to you.”

Taako glances at Kravitz, suppressing a grin. “Natch, homie. Taako is very charming.”

“You’re certainly something.” Kravitz offers Taako his hand.

Taako laughs and takes it, pulling himself up out of the armchair and to his feet. “Let me grab my bag from the backroom. You want your coat back?”

Kravitz shakes his head. “It’s chilly out. You can keep it. I’ll walk you back to campus.”

“Suit yourself.” Taako pulls the coat a little closer as he slips his shoes back on, then walks to the storeroom to grab his tote. He stuffs the crumpled advice letters—letters he may have slept on, just a bit—into his bag and heads back into the shop.

Kravitz is waiting for him, a leather satchel hooked over his shoulder, his hands in the pockets of his black trousers. Taako takes a moment, looking at Kravitz standing there, smiling, his brown eyes almost gold in the yellow light of the bespelled mug, to send a prayer to the Raven Queen because _damn_ she’s got some fine followers. Taako knows nothing about her, aside from the whole death goddess thing, but he’s definitely intrigued.

“Got everything you need?” Kravitz asks.

“Mm, everything I’m allowed to take with me,” Taako says. “I definitely need the espresso machine and I wouldn’t mind taking my chair so no one steals it from me again, but close enough. You good?”

“Just need to lock up after us,” Kravitz says, leading the way to the door. He holds it open for Taako and Taako pauses outside so Kravitz can do that. He turns to Taako after the coffee shop is secured. “I, uh, don’t actually know where your school is. Lead the way?”

Taako starts walking towards campus. “You offered to walk me back without knowing whether or not it’ll grossly inconvenience you?”

Kravitz shrugs, falling into step beside Taako. “I wanted to. It’s no trouble. Are you objecting?”

“No. And you can’t take the offer back now. I was promised your coat until we get there.”

It really _is_ cold out. Taako probably should have thought about that before storming out of the student lounge and heading straight to The Davy Lamp. Even under Kravitz’s coat, he can feel the brisk wind. It’s approaching the time of year when wearing a skirt to class means accepting that he’s going to be fucking _freezing_ all day.

“I did, didn’t I?” Kravitz sounds like he only regrets it a _little_ bit, which is nice.

“Next time, think it through, Deathboy.”

“Oh, I weighed all my options. I liked this one the best,” Kravitz says, shrugging. “I have bad circulation anyway. I’m used to being cold.” He pulls a hand out of his pocket, offering it to Taako. “Feel. I’m a walking ice cube.”

Taako reaches out and touches Kravitz’s hand, eyebrows raising because, yep, that is _very_ cold. “Kind of a clammy one, huh?” Taako laces their fingers together. “Someone should buy you gloves for Candlenights.”

Kravitz seems surprised to suddenly find himself holding hands with Taako, but he doesn’t try to pull it away. He gives Taako’s hand a squeeze and smiles, wide, a flash of metal and white teeth in the darkness. They walk the rest of the way in comfortable silence, joined hands swinging between them, and it’s… good. It’s _nice_.

Taako stops outside the school gates. “Neverwinter High,” he says. “As pretentious and full of itself as anyone ever told you it was.”

Kravitz surveys the school buildings over Taako’s shoulder and nods thoughtfully. “You must fit right in.”

Taako laughs and throws Kravitz’s hand back at him in mock disgust. “Excuse you? I’ve never been so insulted in all my life.”

“You’re welcome,” Kravitz says, still smiling at Taako. “Thanks for letting me walk you home.”

It occurs to Taako, suddenly, as he and Kravitz stand there just… looking at each other, that this is another moment like the one in The Davy Lamp—the one interrupted by Kravitz’s Light spell flickering out—a moment of tension that could become a kiss.

That knowledge hangs heavy in the air between them. Kravitz is waiting, obviously. Hanging back so Taako can be the one who decides what this is—what it's going to be, and how fast it’s going to move. Kravitz is handsome enough that Taako will call it _cute_ and not patronizing that he’s so obviously trying to give Taako space to decide what he wants.

Instead of leaning towards Kravitz, Taako pulls off the coat draped over his shoulders and holds it open for him. “I believe this is yours.”

Kravitz hesitates only briefly, then slides his satchel off his shoulder and turns, letting Taako help him into the coat. Taako smooths out the wool covering his shoulders, once Kravitz is safely tucked inside it, and steps back so Kravitz can turn to face him again.

“It’s a nice coat,” Taako says, tugging on the lapels to make them hang straight. “You look good.”

A gust of wind hits them and cuts straight through the shirt Taako’s wearing, making him shiver visibly. Kravitz’s expression goes immediately, wonderfully concerned.

“You should get inside,” he says, shouldering his bag again. “Maybe eat something?”

“Yes, mom,” Taako says, and sticks his tongue out at Kravitz.

“Don’t make me turn this sidewalk around,” Kravitz says, pitching his voice higher, with round, drawn out vowels in a poor imitation of a fantasy Fargo accent. “I’ll feed you another bad croissant if you’re not careful, don’t cha’know.”

Taako blinks, momentarily too shocked to respond, and then _loses his gods damned mind_. He has to bend over and brace his hands on his knees he’s laughing so hard.

He can’t _believe_ he has a crush on _this_. This objectively handsome total loser. What is _wrong_ with him?

“Holy fuck,” Taako says. “Oh my _gods_ , you’re such a dork.”

Kravitz chuckles too, bending down so he can peer at Taako’s face, obviously pleased with himself. “You good?”

“Better than you.” Taako’s still giggling as he straightens up. He shoves Kravitz’s shoulder. “I need to go before I get locked out of the building.”

“Of course. Go. I’m not trying to make you burn all your spell slots breaking into your room,” Kravitz says. “Have a good night, Taako.”

“Night, Krav.” Taako waves as he turns away, wrapping his arms around himself and walking towards the boy’s dorms. When he glances over his shoulder Kravitz is still there, watching, which is—definitely a dorky thing to do, not sweet at all. Taako turns away and smothers the stupid smile on his face. Taako doesn’t get hung up on dudes. Not even cute goth baristas.

It’s past ten, so the doors are definitely locked, no matter what Taako implied to Kravitz. He’s too cold to be sneaky, so he just casts Knock to unlock them, stepping inside and flipping the lock shut again after himself.

There’s half a beat before Leon comes walking briskly down the hall from the dorm supervisor’s room. He takes one look at Taako and his bedraggled appearance, at him obviously returning after a _very_ long day, and then turns on his heel and walks back the way he came.

Sometimes Taako’s reputation works in his favour. Sometimes it’s good to be the kid who made two teachers cry.

He smiles to himself and heads upstairs, to his room. Taako’s not tired—he’s had more than enough sleep for the day, thank you very much—but he _is_ hungry now that Kravitz mentioned food. A little past ten seems like a perfectly reasonable hour to make some fantasy instant ramen.

Taako unlocks the door to his room and, too late, realizes that the walk with Kravitz lulled him into a false sense of security.

Lup is waiting for him and she is _furious_.

“What. The fuck,” she says, getting up from his bed and marching straight across the room, heedless of the crap scattered across his floor. She pushes him back out into the hall. “What the _fuck_ , Taako? We _just_ talked about keeping your stone of farspeech on you. You’ve been missing _all day_ , and sure—this morning you were sleeping, no big. At lunch you were sleeping, fine. But I show up to wake you for dinner and you’re _missing_?” She shoves him again. “I call your stone and _where_ does it ring from? This garbage dump you call a floor. Taako, I feel like I haven’t said this enough yet— _what the fuck._ ”

“Okay! Okay, Lup! I get it!” Taako says, raising his hands in surrender as his back the hits wall.

“Do you? Do you get it, Taako? Because from here it seems like you, uh, kind of _don’t_.”

Lup looks like she’s five second from pulling her wand on him so Taako nods quickly. “I get it,” he repeats. “My bad, Lulu. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Yeah, no _shit_.” Lup glares at him, right up in his face, and then takes a step back and points to the open door of his room. “In there. Now. Tell me where the fuck you were.”

“Can I, uh, eat while we do this?” Taako asks, walking obediently into the room. “All I’ve had today is a croissant.”

“Taako, I love you more than life itself, but you’re a fucking disaster. Sit on the bed.”

Taako does as he’s told. Lup shoves the clothes on his floor out of the way with her foot and takes out one of Taako’s ramen cups—extra spicy shrimp, which is his favourite and which she has to dig to find, so she really _must_ be worried about him.

“I woke up as classes were ending,” Taako says. “Missed my appointment with Merle too.”

“I know,” Lup says. “When you weren’t here at dinner and didn’t have your stone on you, I asked him. He told me you missed it. And then no one else had seen you either. Magnus checked every single bathroom looking for you.”

“Magnus helped you look for me?” That doesn’t sound right. It’s not like Taako and Magnus are friends.

Lup conjures water for the noodles and casts a spell to heat them up before turning to give Taako an unimpressed look. “Babe, he recruited you to join his prank war in the middle of the night and then gave you a piggyback ride to your room when you overextended yourself. Of _course_ he helped look for you. He’s your friend.”

Taako frowns. “I’m not friends with Magnus Burnsides. Magnus Burnsides likes gym. Magnus Burnsides is on the basketball team.”

Lup strides across the room in two steps and flicks Taako’s forehead. “Taako, we are _both_ friends with Magnus Burnsides. We’re also friends with Barry Bluejeans and Angus McDonald. _I’m_ friends with Lucretia, but you’re being weird about it because you have issues with authority figures.”

None of this sounds right to Taako. He raises a hand to rub the sort spot on his forehead and keeps on frowning. “I’m not being weird about it.”

“That was me being nice. You’re being a dick about it. Barry and Angus helped me look for you too, you know. I think Angus was about to cry until I told him you were probably off sulking at The Davy Lamp. _Were_ you sulking at The Davy Lamp.”

Taako leans to the left to look at the cup of noodles on his dresser. “Can I have my soup, please?”

Lup snorts and uses Mage Hand to carry it to the bed, taking a seat beside Taako. He opens his bedside table to fish out one of the many forks he’s stolen from the cafeteria and starts to eat.

“Yeah,” he admits, after swallowing his first mouthful of noodles. “Ren wasn’t working and I—kind of lost my temper about it a little bit. Kravitz—the dude who was on bar—stuck me in the backroom, gave me some food, and let me sleep it off. I woke up late.”

The ramen is one of the best tasting things Taako’s eaten in a long time which means he must have been _starving_. Fuck. He really is kind of a disaster.

“So you ran away, threw a fit, and had a nap.” Lup leans over, suddenly, and pulls Taako into a tight hug. “Next time _tell_ me, goofus. Borrow someone’s stone if you have to, but come on. You’re killing me.”

Taako has to adjust the hold he has on his soup _very quickly_ to stop from dumping it in his lap. He wraps his free arm around Lup and squeezes her tight. “Sorry,” he says. “I will. I promise.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Lup shoves him lightly as she pulls out of the hug, then kicks off her shoes and hops off the bed, searching through the clothes on Taako’s floor. “I’m sleeping here tonight. You need supervision.”

Taako wants to protest, but honestly he doesn’t have a leg to stand on in right now. And it’s been a while, anyway, since he and Lup had time together that was just theirs. He fishes his fork out of the noodle cup. “If that’s what you want to do, knock yourself out, bubelah.”

Lup changes into an old t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants that, honestly, Taako thinks he stole from her. Taako finishes his soup and—finally—gets out of the wrinkled, dirty clothes he’s wearing, pulling on an oversized t-shirt of his own to sleep in instead. 

When he and Lup were little, they often ended up sharing a bed. It was a good way to keep their aunt from hearing them whispering to each other in the middle of the night. After she died, when it was just the two of them on the road, staying close was how they kept each other safe. The first couple weeks with a new caravan they’d take turns meditating, making sure one of them was always on watch. Settling in together now is like being back there, like all the good and bad parts of their childhood combined, like when it was just them against the world.

Taako undoes his bun and lays down beside Lup. She flicks her wand to turn off the lights. For a moment, they lie there in the dark room, bodies turned towards each other like twin compasses pointing to their true north, quiet and still.

Lup reaches out to wind a lock of Taako’s bleached hair around her finger. “Taako,” she says, her voice soft. “No matter what happens, no matter how many people we meet—you’re my heart. You’ll always be my heart. You know that, right?”

Taako studies Lup’s face, her serious expression, and nods, once. “Yeah,” he says. “Of course. You’re mine too.”

Lup stares at him, her eyes searching his, and then she echoes his nod and leans in to kiss his forehead. “Good. As long as you know that, we’re okay.”

They lapse into silence again, and eventually Lup falls asleep, her eyes slipping shut, relaxed and comfortable beside Taako. Trusting him.

Taako’s not tired. He slept all day and is wide awake now, but there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. He settles in for the night, ready, for the first time in a while, to take his turn watching over Lup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is maybe _not quite_ the prank fallout people were hoping for after the last chapter, huh? Thank you all for reading anyway. I promise we _will_ see Carey's reaction to pocket pudding in future chapters!
> 
> My tumblr is [@marywhal](http://marywhal.tumblr.com) and I tend to be faster about responding to messages there. I'm behind on comment responses here, so sorry about that!
> 
> Chapter 8 will feature Taako's responses to your questions and will go up, holy shit, on Boxing Day. Uh, happy Christmas to those of you who celebrate it! I'll have a special Candlenights fic up on the 24th if you want something to tide you over between now and Tuesday!


	8. Spin

_ Spin: Shaping a story to produce a desired interpretation. _

*

It’s Saturday and Taako doesn’t have anywhere to be, but he still gets up with Lup first thing. She makes him take a shower—which, yeah, fair—and when he returns she’s dressed in a pair of his jeans and a crop top, reading his letters.

“Holy shit, babe,” she says, looking up. “People at our school have a lot of problems.”

Taako snorts at that, grabbing some clean-ish things off his floor to pull on. “Yeah, no fucking kidding. Have you _met_ people at our school?”

Lup holds up the letter in her hand. “This dude wants to know how to deal with his roommate keeping a bunch of haunted objects in their dorm.”

Taako grins because that question is one of the best he’s received. “I’m definitely answering that one,” he says, fishing his wand out of his bag so he can spell his hair dry. “It’s my favourite.”

“What are you going to _say_?” Lup asks. “Throw the haunted shit away piece by piece and see if he notices? Tell your roommate the ghosts wanted to move out when he does? Make your roommate think the ghosts like you more than him so he gets jealous and doesn’t leave haunted shit lying around anymore?”

“I mean, I was planning on telling him to get someone in to bless his room, but those’d work too,” Taako says, getting out his makeup. Leaving the room means running the risk of seeing people he had a minor breakdown at The Davy Lamp in front of yesterday. There’s no way he’s doing that without a hefty layer of armour on.

Lup, cross-legged on the bed, watches Taako rub primer over his face. She looks unimpressed. “I’m not going to sit here and watch you battle with liquid liner and we _are_ eating breakfast together today,” she says. “You can come back and put your face on after. It’s not like you have a morning practice to get to. I do. Besides, can’t do much to change what you’ve got. I’m the older twin _and_ the prettier twin.”

“Rude.” Taako finishes his foundation—not enough to cover his freckles, just enough to even his skin tone—and rouges his cheeks a little so his face doesn’t look flat. “Okay, fine. I’ll contour later, but only because I’m starving.”

Which probably makes sense. He hasn’t had real food in... a while. _That’s_ not great.

Taako and Lup head out together, Taako in the leather jacket he has yet to bedazzle and Lup in her red jacket because Lup does sensible things like bring a coat with her when she goes out for the day.

In the cafeteria, Angus is part way through his breakfast, sitting at their table. When he sees Taako and Lup he abandons his food, running over to greet them. “Sir, you’re okay! We were worried last night when we couldn’t find you.”

Taako shrugs as he looks down at the kid. “Yeah, of course. I’m—” He’s cut of by Angus throwing his arms around his waist, hugging him tightly.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Angus says, looking up at Taako and fucking _beaming_.

Taako, much to his horror, feels something like _affection_ for this kid. Feels the urge to hug him _back_. It’s gross. He makes a show of pushing Angus away, scoffing as he does. “Yeah, yeah, Agnes. No need to get clingy. I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.”

“He went and had a nap at his favourite coffee shop. He’s fine,” Lup says. “Taako, sit. You’re going to keep Ango company.”

Taako doesn’t especially _want_ to sit and keep Angus company, but Angus looks so pleased by the idea that he can’t say no.

“Oh, all right,” Taako says, making a face. “Since he wants it so badly.”

Lup leaves to get their food and Taako takes a seat beside Angus, stealing an orange off his tray and starting to peel it.

“You’re not usually at breakfast, sir,” Angus says. “Are you getting a headstart on the day? I know I have lots of writing to do to meet the deadline.”

Right, the deadline. Taako hasn’t actually been thinking of the deadline itself that much, too busy basking in the success of his first column and overthinking the letters he got in response to it. He’s going to have to actually get his shit together.

“Right. Forgot about that,” he says, breaking off an orange segment and popping it into his mouth. “It’s cool. I’ve still got time.”

Lup returns, balancing two plates piled high with food. Taako gives Angus back the rest of his orange because he’s got one of his own now. Fruit tastes _amazing_ and maybe Ren’s on to something with the whole eating-a-balanced-diet thing. Even the rubbery cafeteria eggs and the oregano-heavy hashbrowns don’t deter Taako from devouring most of the food on his plate.

It’s only because he’s hungry. The cafeteria serves food that is objectively, unequivocally bad. Parents might pay a fortune for their kids to attend Neverwinter High, but the school hasn’t mastered the art of cooking a lot of food for a lot of people who all want to eat at slightly different times while _also_ making the food taste, you know, good.

It’s totally feasible—especially for a fully-staffed kitchen. Taako _knows_ it’s possible because he and Lup could pull it off at twelve. Neverwinter High apparently hasn’t got its shit together as much as they did when they were tweens.

It’s especially painful because Taako _gets_ food. He gets food and he gets cooking, and not just because he’s good at it. Taako’s good at a lot of things—magic, languages, fashion—but cooking is different. Cooking is what he and Lup did with their aunt before she died. Cooking is how he and Lup survived on their own. Cooking is as much a part of Taako as his attitude problem or his magic or his love for his sister. It’s ingrained, deeply, in who he is—an essential piece of the Taako puzzle. 

Maybe he doesn’t get to do it anymore, now that he’s not in Cooking and Baking II, and maybe all he ever eats is junk, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t _miss_ it or that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about when he says the food is bad and Rick is bad and Neverwinter High is maybe trying to starve him to death.

Lup’s always been better at rolling with the punches than him. It makes sense that it doesn’t seem to bother her as much.

Taako is finishing off his breakfast when Magnus shows up, half-asleep and still in pajama pants. Somehow this means Taako is stuck with both Magnus and Angus when Lup leaves for field hockey practice. Magnus shovels eggs in his mouth like he’s worried someone’s going to take them from him and stacks his bacon up two at a time before shoving the strips into his mouth.

Taako watches him eat, torn between awe and disgust because he’d thought he and Lup had a lot on their plates, but this is a _lot_ of food. “You doing okay, big fella?”

“Yeah,” Magnus says, around a mouthful of toast spread thick with jam. “What about you? We were worried yesterday.” Magnus sets the rest of his toast down and gives Taako an apologetic look. An alarm bell goes off in Taako’s mind because he didn’t ask to have a _moment_. His question was meant to be snarky and now they’re doing… whatever _this_ is instead.

“I’m fine,” Taako says, frowning at Magnus in an effort to end this conversation before it can go any further. “I spend one day getting some much needed Taako time and you all freak out.”

Magnus picks up his orange juice to wash down the toast. “Okay,” he says. “If you say you’re fine, I believe you.” His tone of voice and raised eyebrows say otherwise, but Taako can’t deal with that right now. 

He rolls his eyes and steals a piece of bacon from Magnus’s plate. “Do you want to go to the student lounge after you finish eating? I can teach you both how to suck less at pool.”

That chases most of the weird, careful pity from Magnus’s face and he perks up, grinning at Taako and Angus both. “Oh yeah, cool! Lup keeps trying, but so far I’m not very good.”

“And you probably won’t be today either, my man.” Taako looks down at Angus beside him. “Pumpkin?”

“I have homework I should do. And I’ve still got articles to finish for the next issue,” Angus says, chewing his bottom lip. He’s obviously wavering. Not that Taako _cares_ , but being the lone boy genius in a school full of asshole teenagers is probably pretty hard.

“You can do it later,” Taako says, waving a dismissive hand. “You’re a smart cookie. It’s a couple of hours. It won’t kill you.”

“Well… okay.” Angus smiles and looks down at his empty plate. “I guess you’re right. It won’t hurt.”

God, Taako is too fucking generous for his own good sometimes.

Magnus finishes gorging himself on breakfast and they head towards the student lounge. They’re halfway there when Merle finds them.

“Taako, have you got a minute?”

Merle’s arms are crossed and he’s got an unimpressed look on his face. There is absolutely no part of Taako that wants anything to do with whatever the fuck this is going to be. He’s a big enough person to admit that maybe storming off to The Davy Lamp because Lup and everyone were hanging out without him was kind of a dick move, but he _heard_ Merle talking to Lucretia. Merle isn’t supposed to walk around talking about how frustrating Taako is. He’s a cleric and a counselor, for fuck’s safe. There has to be some sort of confidentiality clause built into that.

“Little busy, actually,” Taako says. “Gotta teach these boys how not to get their asses handed to them in pool.”

“Taako.” Merle isn’t often serious and he rarely sounds _stern_. Taako stops talking. “You missed our appointment yesterday. I thought we’d make it up now.”

“It’s Saturday,” Taako says, glancing at Magnus and Angus beside him.

“And if you’d come to our scheduled appointment then you would have today to yourself,” Merle says. He smiles and claps his hands together. “So let’s go. Get this over with as quickly as possible so we can both have our weekends back. Boys, Taako will be free soon.”

Taako hopes that’s a promise. The idea of sitting around for half an hour pretending like he doesn’t know Merle thinks he’s frustrating and hard to work with is pure hell, but he can’t _say_ that. Admitting to eavesdropping would look… not great.

He trudges behind Merle like an elf walking to the gallows. If Merle notices Taako’s reluctance—and it would be fucking hard for him not to—he doesn’t mention it, just leads Taako to his office and unlocks the door, stepping aside so Taako can precede him into the room.

Taako enters and sits in his usual chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s just one appointment, Merle.”

“You don’t usually miss appointments, Taako. Show up late or leave early, sure, but missing them entirely isn't your style.” Merle closes the door and takes a seat beside Taako instead of behind his desk which is just—ugh. It’s a move straight out of the concerned adult playbook.

What he’s saying is true though. Taako might talk a lot of shit about being drafted into mandatory appointments with Merle, but they’re honestly not that bad. Taako _liked_ Merle. Kind of. As far as adults went, Taako had always thought Merle’s shittiness levels were low.

Now, of course, he knows better, and he’s not fucking happy that he didn’t pick up on Merle’s bullshit being bullshit before he let himself get played.

Taako can feel Merle staring at him. The weight of his gaze is almost physical. “You missed your classes yesterday too,” he says.

“I slept in.” Taako shrugs. “No big. Sometimes you need to take a day.”

Merle leans back in his seat and Taako risks glancing at him. The assessing look in his one good eye doesn’t bode well. Merle’s plays the part of bumbling beach dwarf well—obviously he’d fooled Taako—but he’s deceptively perceptive when he wants to be. Good at getting people to talk to him.

“That’s true,” Merle says, after a drawn out moment of silence. “You want to tell me why you needed to take this particular day?”

“No.” Taako turns fully, glaring at Merle. “I don’t need to tell you everything, Merle. I can have a fucking private life.”

“Sure,” Merle says. His tone is even, reasonable. Taako’s bullshit rolls right off Merle and it drives him up the wall. Taako would rather pick a fight. He’d rather be yelled at. Taako knows what to _do_ with someone yelling at him. “But if you miss classes then the school needs to check in. Given that you recently had a teacher try to have you expelled, you can see why this might be an issue, can’t you?”

Taako can’t see how it’s any of Merle’s or the school’s fucking business, actually. It’s not like Neverwinter High gives a fuck about him, not beyond making themselves feel good for giving a pair of orphans a chance to make good. He’s not naive enough to think anyone cares.

“Listen, can we not?” Taako asks, rolling his eyes. “This is—whatever. You’re doing your thing. I get it. But can we just _not_?”

Merle’s eyebrows raise. “Not what?”

“ _This_.” Taako waves a hand between the two of them. “This whole _thing_. It’s exhausting and frankly Taako’s tired of this shtick. The show’s getting tired, so let’s call it before we completely jump the shark.”

Merle’s got a look on his face that’s not quite sympathy—an expression that says he _empathizes_ with Taako right now and it’s… bad. Taako doesn’t need this. Taako may be an orphan who’s one lost scholarship away from being homeless, but that doesn’t mean he’s here to be _pitied_ and the look on Merle’s face is edging dangerously close.

“Don’t look at me like that, Merle.” Taako pushes his chair back and gets to his feet. “I’m the one making teachers cry, not the other way around. Why is everyone treating me like I’m a porcelain fucking doll today?”

“People caring about you isn’t a bad thing,” Merle says, still unreasonably, relentlessly calm.

“You’re not my dad!” Taako snaps. He regrets it immediately—not snapping, Merle deserves that. He regrets the implication that he’d ever thought of Merle that way, that he’d considered Merle a caretaker. A guardian. A parent.

Merle isn’t his dad. Merle’s not his family. Merle is a counselor. Merle is paid to pretend to care about Taako’s life.

Merle thinks Taako is frustrating and hard to work with.

Taako’s words hang heavy in the air between them.

He can feel himself flushing from anger and embarrassment—even his ears feel hot from it. They’re downturned and pressed against the sides of his head and _fuck_ them. Fuck them for giving away how he feels right now.

Taako’s breathing is shaky when he inhales.

Merle leans forward in his chair. “Taako—”

“Don’t!” Taako steps back, clenches his hands into fists. “Don’t say anything. Don’t _pity_ me.”

“I’m not—”

“I said _don’t,_ Merle!” Taako feels like he’s being worked into a corner. He feels like he just stripped off a layer of skin, like he just exposed a raw nerve, something that wasn’t ready to be seen. He feels everything, all at once, like it just wants to burst out of him, and it’s terrible.

Merle gets to his feet, reaching a hand towards him, and Taako physically recoils. Merle stops. He holds up his hands and steps back, because of course he fucking does. Of course he knows what to do to make the tension coiled in Taako’s chest ease, what to do to calm him.

It both helps and makes it worse, makes Taako feel like he’s a fucking spooked horse.

There is a knock on the door.

Taako and Merle play a game of chicken that lasts half a second, but feels like it stretches on forever. Taako is the first to break—he goes for the door and yanks it open because literally _anything_ would be better than what’s happening between him and Merle right now.

Magnus is on the other side of it. Magnus, Leon, and—behind them—Angus. Leon takes a step back when he sees Taako and Taako can’t help sneering at him because what does Leon _expect_ from him? What does he think Taako could pull off when he’s standing in the doorway of Merle’s office?

“Leon, we’re in the middle of an appointment. Can this wait?” Merle asks, in the same even voice he’s used for everything else today.

It sets Taako’s teeth on edge.

“Mr. Burnsides saw fit to punch another student in the lounge today,” Leon says. “Principal Davenport isn’t in. You’re on the roster for disciplinary problems.”

Taako looks from Magnus to Angus, then closes the gap between him and Magnus, ignoring Leon scrambling to get out of his way as he gets right in Magnus’s face because what the _fuck_? “Did you hit _Angus_?” he asks, reaching for his wand. “He’s a kid.”

“No!” Magnus protests, looking so shocked by the accusation that Taako almost believes him. “No, no! I—no! Ango is a _baby_!”

“I’m not a baby,” Angus says. “Magnus didn’t hit me, sir. He hit Jerree because Jerree stole my glasses.”

“So where’s Jerree?” Taako asks, looking down at Leon. “Or is bullying a baby okay by you?”

“I broke his nose, I think,” Magnus says. He rubs the back of his neck. “Sometimes I don’t know my own strength. I didn’t _mean_ to. There was… a lot of blood.”

“Merle’s a cleric,” Taako says, jerking his thumb at Merle. “Could have brought him here.”

“Jerree will be punished. Right now he’s at the nurse’s office, where he can be helped by someone who _specializes_ in healing,” Leon says, and his tone is downright icy.

Taako doesn’t know what bad blood exists between Leon and Merle, but he gets why Merle never seemed all that bothered by Taako tormenting Leon now.

“Magnus, why don’t you take a seat out here?” Merle asks. “I’ll be out in a moment, after Taako and I—”

“Nope,” Taako says. “We’re good here. Ango, let’s go. We’ve got yesterday’s Elvish homework to do and articles to write.”

Taako grabs Angus’s arm and starts pulling him down the hall, away from Merle’s office.

“Taako, you can’t avoid this discussion forever!” Marle calls after him.

“I can sure try!” Taako doesn’t look back, but his grip on Angus’s arms tightens, just slightly. Angus has to jog to keep up with Taako’s long legs.

If there’s one thing Taako’s good at, it’s avoiding consequences.

*

Taako really _should_ get the Elvish work he missed from Angus, and they both really _do_ have writing for their respective Starblaster assignments to do, so Taako leads Angus to the dorms to pick up their things, then heads to The Davy Lamp. He doesn’t usually invite guests into his sanctuary, but staying at school is courting danger. Merle knows where to look for Taako and Taako can’t deal with Merle right now.

Saturday mornings aren’t peak hipster hours, so there are plenty of free seats when he and Angus arrive. Angus seems overawed by the whole kitsch-chic aesthetic of the place, clutching the strap of his satchel and looking around like he just walked into a museum or something. It’s both amusing and gratifying. The Davy Lamp is absolutely the worst in many ways, but Taako’s brand increases in value because of how familiar he is with it and how cool everyone else thinks the coffeeshop is.

Taako says some mental apologies to his favourite armchair and opts for the worn leather couch in the center of the shop instead, dropping his bag on the low coffee table in front of it.

He tilts his head, looking down at Angus. “Can you _do_ coffee or will that stunt your growth?”

“That’s an urban myth, sir,” Angus says. “But I’d prefer tea if they have it.”

“They have a _lot_ of tea,” Taako says, snorting. “Come on, boychik. I’m not choosing for you.”

The miscalculation Taako’s made in coming to The Davy Lamp—especially with Angus in tow—doesn’t occur to him until he turns to the counter and sees Kravitz.

Kravitz, who yesterday made sure Taako had the space and privacy he needed to decompress. Kravitz, who draped his coat over Taako while he slept in the backroom. Kravitz, who stayed late after work, playing soft music on The Davy Lamp’s old piano so Taako could sleep longer. Kravitz, who held Taako’s hand Taako and walked him back to school when he woke up. Kravitz, who Taako had almost kissed. Twice.

Kravitz, whose eyebrows are raised practically to his hairline as he looks at Angus standing beside Taako and yeah, Taako should have thought this through.

“Krav, this is Agnes,” Taako says, after a beat. “Agnes, this is Kravitz.”

“It’s Angus, actually,” Angus says, sticking his hand out for Kravitz to shake. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Kravitz looks a bit thrown by Angus calling him sir and offering him his hand, but he reaches out to shake it regardless. “Nice to meet you too, Angus,” he says. “Kravitz is fine. You don’t need to be so formal.”

“Oh, he does it to everyone. No need to worry. You’ve still got your youth.” Taako leans against the counter. “I’ll have a white mocha with one pump of raspberry syrup and extra whip cream. We also need to know more about your tea selection.”

Kravitz glances over his shoulder, at the twenty or so silver canisters of tea leaves behind him. “We have… a lot of it,” he says. “Do you want me to read you the labels on the jars? I can do that.”

Taako looks down at Angus. “Kravitz is new here.”

Angus glances from Kravitz to Taako then back to Kravitz. “I’ll just have a hot chocolate, please.”

“Good call, D’jango.” Taako ruffles Angus’s hair automatically, which is—not his usual vibe, but the kid just had his glasses stolen by one of the Hammerheads, thereby rescuing Taako from Merle. He can be generous today. “One mocha for me and a hot chocolate for the kid.”

Kravitz doesn’t even bother with the pretense of entering the order into the till, he just starts making them. “So how do you know Taako?” Kravitz asks. “Is he… your babysitter?”

Angus looks so immediately and fundamentally disgruntled by the implication that he requires supervision that Taako can’t help laughing. “Oh fuck, no,” Taako says. “No, can you _imagine_ how bad I’d be at babysitting? Angus goes to Neverwinter High. He’s a boy genius or what-have-you.”

“I don’t like the term genius,” Angus says.

Taako rolls his eyes. “Which is exactly what a genius _would_ say. We’re on the newspaper together.”

“Oh!” Kravitz looks down at Angus, suddenly smiling a full on braces smile. “You’re the Angus who wrote the review of the latest Caleb Cleveland novel in the first issue of The Starblaster. I thought the link you made between Caleb’s character arc over the course of the book and the memory loss he suffered in The Curse of the Silver Dragon was brilliant. You got to the parallels between Caleb and Countess Anne in a very succinct way.”

Agnus lights up like a Candlenights bush, beaming at Kravitz. “You read Caleb Cleveland: Kid Cop?”

“Of course,” Kravitz says, nodding. “I wanted to be Caleb when I was growing up. They were my favourites. Something about being an enterprising orphan who makes his own way in the world. And the mysteries are always good. I stopped reading for a while, but I picked them up again when I started at the conservatory this fall. They’re a good distraction.”

“Yeah!” Angus is so excited that he’s up on his tiptoes, bracing himself on the bar so he can lean towards Kravitz like he’s the fucking sun. “Me too! I mean, I never stopped reading them, but they’re my _favourite_. I want to be a detective and they have lots of good police work and Caleb’s _just like me_.”

Kravitz piles two cups high with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles and slides them across the bar, grinning down at Angus. “I always thought if I didn’t go into music I’d be an investigator because of Caleb Cleveland,” he said. “I nearly applied to join the militia.”

“Oh no, I want to be a private detective,” Angus says, shaking his head. “I’ll consult with the militia, but I want to be able to pick my own cases. Have some autonomy.”

Taako finds this whole thing fucking adorable and it’s awful.

“Nerds,” he says, reaching over to pluck his and Angus’s drinks from the bar. He can’t quite repress the smile on his face though. “All of this is gibberish to me.”

“You’ve never read a Caleb Cleveland novel?” Angus asks, turning to Taako, a look of genuine shock and dismay on his face. “But they’re so _good_! I read my first one when I was eight. My grandpa gave me Caleb Cleveland and the Cat’s Eye Catastrophe after my parents died and then I went to the library and read the whole series in a month.”

Taako has no idea how many Caleb Cleveland novels there are, but if Kravitz also read them as a kid he has a feeling the answer is a _lot_.

“Life on the road, my man,” Taako says, shrugging. “Not a lot of space for books. They’re dead weight. All the ones Lup and I read were either recipe books or whatever the caravans we travelled with had around. And I wasn’t a big reader. Lup’s probably read a couple.”

“I’ll loan you my copy of Caleb Cleveland and the Princely Problem,” Kravitz says. “It’s my favourite. I think you’ll like it.”

“Oh, that’s a good one!” Angus says, turning back to his new best friend Kravitz. “When the prince—in the seventh chapter!”

Kravitz nods emphatically. “Yes! And then Caleb has to call on Sergeant Li?”

“Yeah!”

“Okay, well, _I’m_ going to go answer some questions,” Taako says. “This is adorable, but I have wisdom to share with the world. I’m taking you drink with me, pumpkin.”

“Sorry,” Kravitz says, looking up at Taako and giving him a small, sheepish smile. He and Angus just look so pleased to have found each other and to be having this conversation that Taako can’t even really protest. He’s going soft.

“You’re fine,” Taako says, shaking his head. “You two do your nerd thing. Taako’s going to do his saving the couch thing before some hipster comes in and pretends they don’t know my bag means that whole situation is reserved.”

“I promise I’ll be right there, sir,” Angus says, but the look on his face definitely says it’s going to be a while before Taako has his company again.

As long as Kravitz isn’t Angus’s new favourite, it’s all good.

Taako sits with his coffee and Angus’s hot chocolate and takes out the letters. Compared to some of the questions he’s gotten, the roommate with a ghost fetish one is easy. The last forty-eight hours has conclusively proven that Taako’s not _qualified_ to tell people how to get their shit together, but he’s got to produce something. He lays the letters down on the table in front of him, reading them through again, and then starts to write.

It’s not easy, but Taako’s never had much trouble telling people what to do.

Angus joins him, eventually, pulling out a couple of books and starting to work. They sit together quietly as the coffee shop fills up around them, wannabe writers and poets taking over the tables and—Taako notes—the _same fucking_ tiefling from yesterday taking his armchair again.

Angus is the one who breaks with silence. “How do you say plaid in Elvish?”

“Plaid,” Taako says, leaning over to look at Angus’s paper. “But with an Elvish accent. Why are you talking about plaid, Ango? What are you doing to the language of my people?”

Angus laughs and turns his notebook towards Taako. “We’re supposed to translate something for next class so I thought I’d do the first few pages of the new Caleb Cleveland novel.”

“Nerd,” Taako says, reflexively. “Are you trying to call his hair brown? That’s not—has Jenkins not taught you _colours_ yet?”

Angus pauses. “You’re… in the class too, sir. But no, we learned colours years ago.”

“How old were you when you started high school?” Taako asks, glancing down at Angus. “Don’t answer that. I’ll feel sad. This is the first Elvish class I’ve taken so I haven’t experienced the joys of the others, but Ango, colours are verbs.”

The frown on Angus’s face would be adorable if it didn’t represent the core problem with Neverwinter High. The school has a big reputation, big aspirations for its students, lots of money—and kind of a shitty teaching staff.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Angus says. “How do you _describe_ things?”

Taako grabs the end of his braid and tugs it around so Angus can see it in all its bleached out glory. “Right now my hair is blond,” he says. “Agreed?”

Angus nods because, yes, the kid got his glasses back from Jerree.

Taako fishes out his wand and casts Prestidigitation, turning his hair pink. “And now?”

“It’s… pink,” Angus says. “I don’t understand.”

“Colours are verbs,” Taako says, “because things _change_. The sky is blue when it’s sunny, but it’s grey when it’s raining. At sunset and sunrise it might be red or pink or purple. When it’s night, it’s black. Colours are verbs. They’re like—a microcosm for the world. The world is a verb, Ango. Colour changes. So do people, things, circumstances. Nothing is permanent. Elvish makes real fucking sure you get that.”

Angus looks down at his composition, nodding to himself, frown still in place. “I guess… yeah. It _does_ make more sense when you put it like that.”

Angus picks up his pen to correct his assignment and Taako turns back to his own work. It’s comfortable, actually, working with the kid— _weirdly_ comfortable. Taako’s used to having Lup as a study buddy and they work well together, but they also tend to distract each other a lot. Angus is good company for actually studying with someone.

He’s not sure how long they’ve been sitting there, writing, when Angus speaks again.

“Sir,” he says. “Do you… mind if I ask you something?”

Taako looks up from answering his last letter, eyebrows raised. “Don’t know until you ask, so you might as well go ahead.”

Angus hesitates for a moment before forging on. “You... said you grew up in caravans. And I know you’re an orphan, so... did your extended family travel a lot?”

Taako snorts at that. “What family?” he asks. “Look, you might as well come right out and ask if me and Lup lived on our own. Yeah, we did. We travelled and worked until we got our scholarships. Still do, during breaks.”

Angus nods. “I thought so. I thought—I know it’s not the same. My family had money so I don’t need to be on a scholarship, but…” He shrugs, looking down at his half-finished hot chocolate. “My grandpa died this summer. I don’t have any family left either. I thought... you might be like me.”

Taako doubts that he is. He and Lup had a few good, steady years when they lived with their aunt, but other than that their relatives had bounced them around from person to person, making it obvious they weren’t wanted. He and Lup fought and scraped for everything they had from day one. Even before their aunt died, they’d known she was a temporary reprieve—that the only people they could _really_ count on were each other. That everyone else was always going to let them down eventually.

Merle was a good reminder of that.

But Angus is young and he hasn’t lived the same life as Taako—hasn’t even lived the same life as Kravitz, who got to be the weird kid raised in the death temple growing up. Angus has family money and doesn’t _need_ to know what the world is really like just yet.

“Hell yeah, team orphan,” Taako says, offering his fist for Angus to bump.

Angus looks at it for a moment, then glances down at his own hand as he balls it up carefully and taps their knuckles together, a smile slowly creeping onto his face.

It’s about the cutest thing Taako’s ever seen which is just… too much for him to deal with today.

He clears his throat. “Right, well. All our parents are dead. It’s cool. So the Elvish homework? We’re just translating whatever?”

Angus nods. “Translating five hundred words of anything we want and doing an original composition about our favourite place. Mr. Jenkins wants us to give detailed descriptions.”

Taako takes Angus’s book from him so we can flip through his notes and makes a face when he gets to Angus’s assignment outline. “Why am I not surprised you like the library?”

“I spend a lot of time there. I used to be there more, but everyone else likes to do their homework in the student lounge so I do it there with you instead,” Angus says. “And Garfield won’t let me take out anymore books until I return the ones I have now so it’s best not to be there too much. Do you know what you’ll write about?”

Places have never meant much to Taako. Constantly being on the move means not getting attached. His room at school is the only real place that’s _his_ , and honestly it’s just somewhere he keeps all his stuff. He and Lup don’t exactly have a home he could write about either. Their summers are still spent finding caravans moving through Neverwinter to join so they can make some money and work for their keep, have a roof over their heads.

Somehow he feels like Jenkins wouldn’t accept Taako not having a favourite place as a response, even if he wrote it in Elvish. Jenkins already hates that Taako doesn’t pay attention in class. It’s not his fault. Taako _grew up_ speaking Elvish and he _gets_ language—AP Elvish is a breeze.

Taako glances at the tiefling sitting in his favourite chair and then at Kravitz standing behind the bar, helping a hipster dwarf with gears braided into her beard.

“Maybe I’ll write about The Davy Lamp,” he says. “This is usually where I set up when Lup has practice or I just want to fuck off for a bit.”

“It’s nice here,” Angus says, glancing around. “I like Kravitz.”

Taako snorts. “Yeah, I picked up on that. He’s not your new favourite is he? Just because he’s a hot goth barista at a hipster cafe doesn’t mean he’s better than ol’ Taako. Who’s your dude, Ango?”

Angus laughs. “You are, sir,” he says. “Promise.”

“Damn straight.” Taako grins at Angus for a moment, then—in the ultimate act of charity—shrugs off his ill-gotten leather jacket. “Hey, you want to learn how to cast Prestidigitation? I need to fancy up this jacket and I’m not sure what I want to do with it yet.”

Angus’s eyes go wide. “You—really?”

“I said I’d think about teaching you, didn’t I?” he asks. “Don’t tell me you’ve decided you don’t _want_ to be a wizard.”’

“No, of course not!” Angus says, bouncing in place on the couch. “Sir, this is _amazing_!”

“Okay, okay. Calm down before I change my mind.” Taako shuffles their papers and drinks out of the way so he can lay his jacket on the table.

“Since you don’t have a wand with you, we’ll use mine. It’s shitty, so I don’t mind, but most wizards aren’t so generous. You should get yourself one.” He digs around in his tote until he finds it. “Prestidigitation is a cantrip, so it’s pretty easy to learn. You can do a lot with it, but it only lasts an hour. So it’s great for things like seeing what looks good on a jacket before committing to your new aesthetic.”

“I’ve read a lot about magic theory, sir,” Angus says. “I know what Prestidigitation is and about cantrips.”

“Who’s doing the teaching here, Ango?”

Angus presses his lips together tight and mimes pulling a zipper over them.

“Good. That’s what I like to hear.” Taako brandishes his wand. “So when you cast Prestidigitation you need to concentrate on the effect you want. It’s a spell you can do a lot with. For now, let’s stick to trying out colours.” He flicks his wand at the jacket and it goes lilac. “Like so. Picture what you want in your mind and just… will the wand to do it. It’s easy.”

Taako holds his wand out and Angus takes it, reverently, in hand. Angus glances at Taako’s face like he’s looking for permission, then looks back down at the jacket in front of them, letting out a slow breath. “Okay,” he says. “Prestidigitation. I can do this.”

“I should hope so. You’re the smartest kid in the world or something. This should be no sweat for you.”

Somehow, Taako’s words don’t seem to be a comfort. Angus swallows audibly and waves the wand at the jacket. There’s hesitation in his movement and doubt in his eyes, so Taako’s not surprised when nothing happens.

Taako shakes his head, leaning over and closing his hand around Angus’s. “Try again,” he says. “You need to have more confidence. It’s like what I told you about the Hammerheads. You just need to assert yourself. You’ve got this.”

Taako helps out with Angus’s next attempt, channeling just a little of his magic into the spell, creating a small flicker of sparks around the tip of the wand. Angus jumps beside him. “Sir!”

“I saw, kiddo.” Taako lets go of the wand, leaning back. “Concentrate on what you want to happen. You can do this. It’s real fucking easy.”

Angus tries again, and _this_ time the spell works—sort of. He flicks the wand at Taako’s jacket and a shower of white and pink and blue spots appear across the back of the jacket, like paint splattering off a brush. Angus stares, wide-eyed, at the spots, then looks at Taako with a smile so big it seems like he might burst. “Taako, look!”

“Yeah, good job, bubelah,” Taako says, leaning back on the couch and stretching his arms above his head. The paint splatter effect is actually kind of a solid look. “Is that what you were going for?”

“Well, I wanted to just turn it one colour, but then I couldn’t decide, and it—it’s not quite the whole thing, but it _worked_!”

Taako looks at the white and pink and blue and _white_ on his jacket, then holds up a hand, giving him a serious look. “Ango.”

Angus quiets immediately. “Sorry. Yes?”

“I need you to promise me you’re never going to try to pull off a white leather jacket,” Taako says. “This is _very important_. You couldn’t do it. _I_ could barely pull it off. I mean, I would, natch, but even for me it would be a struggle.”

Angus blinks at him for a moment, then laughs, loud enough to draw glances their way from other tables in the coffee shop. It occurs to Taako, watching him giggle, that Angus is pretty serious most of the time. More so even than Barry. Not the kind of kid who laughs a lot, even if Taako’s noticed him smiling more and more.

“I’ll get a wand of my own for next time,” Angus says. “And I’ll practice! I’ll be able to do the whole jacket.”

“No doubt. You’re a smart cookie.” And surprisingly, Taako means it. Angus _is_ smart and he probably won’t have any trouble taking his spell to the next level.

“I’m not sure I’m supposed to allow magic lessons in the coffee shop,” Kravitz says, from behind them. 

Taako tilts his head back so he can look up at Kravitz and takes his wand back from Angus. He wiggles it between his fingers. “Lesson over. Wand going away.”

“I don’t mind, but a couple of the customers were giving you dirty looks.”

Taako raises an eyebrow to express just how little that means to him and Angus lets out a muffled laugh beside him.

“I was fairly certain that was how you’d feel,” Kravitz agrees, a ghost of a smile on his face. He bends over the couch and sets a plate with one of The Davy Lamp’s giant cookies between Taako and Angus. “Since the lesson was so successful I thought I’d bring over a reward. It’s oatmeal chocolate chip.”

“Caleb Cleveland’s favourite!” Angus says, beaming up at Kravitz. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re very welcome, Angus.”

Angus breaks the cookie dutifully in half and holds the bigger portion out to Taako.

Taako rolls his eyes and breaks off a smaller chunk from it. “You keep the rest, Ango,” he says. “Enjoy. The cookies are slightly less shitty than the croissants. Honestly, you’d think they’d switch distributors to something palatable. It _is_ better than the food we get at school though.”

“Neverwinter High doesn’t have good food?” Kravitz asks, leaning against the back of the couch. There are enough customers that he should probably be watching the front, but Taako’s not going to complain.

He takes a bite of his piece of cookie and shakes his head. “The food sitch is awful. They have no idea how to run their cafeteria. I made better food when I was cooking for caravans at thirteen.”

Kravitz frowns at that. “Cooking for caravans?”

Right. Taako doesn’t normally _share_ like this. He doesn’t really understand what’s gotten into him lately. “Had to earn our keep somehow, homie. Caravans don’t take people in for free, not even kids. They loved having me and Lup around though. Nobody cooks like us.”

Kravitz is still frowning and it takes Taako a moment to parse the fact that it’s because he’s _concerned_ , not because he doesn’t believe him. Taako can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face. “You can’t go back in time and un-death our aunt, Krav. Even if you _were_ raised by the high priestesses of death or whatever. It happens. People die. You’re a goth orphan death queen baby. You should know that better than anyone.”

Kravitz snorts at that because he gets Taako’s sense of humour, thank the Raven Queen. “I know. Better than most people, as you said, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel sad that you and your sister were left to fend for yourselves. The Raven Queen’s followers honour life as well as death. We try to respect the balance between the two.” He glances at Angus beside Taako. “I’m sorry, Angus. I didn’t mean to make your conversation turn so dour.”

Angus shakes his head and swallows a mouthful of cookie. “It’s okay. We’re all orphans,” he says. “I know about death. I’m going to be a detective, sir. It doesn’t bother me.” He turns his attention to Taako. “Is the food really that bad?”

Taako makes a pained noise, the sound drawn from him involuntarily. “Pumpkin, what is your palate? You’re _rich_. You should know this. Of _course_ the food’s that bad.”

*

Taako’s spends the beginning of the week hiding from Merle. It’s surprisingly easy to do. He goes to all his classes, even gym. Stays in his room in the mornings. Spends lunch with Ren and Lup and whoever else joins them in the middle of the cafeteria. Gets dinner quickly and tries not to linger in the student lounge. Merle wouldn’t approach him for an appointment in the middle of a crowd of people who _aren’t_ his friends and Taako aims to exploit that as much as fucking possible.

There’ve been some close calls in the hallways, but Taako’s pretty good at striking up a conversation with confused strangers. He’s been using that to his advantage whenever Merle shows up in his peripheral vision and looks like he might be making an approach. It’s a good thing Taako’s got a height advantage—gives him a better chance of spotting Merle before it’s too late.

His luck will run out eventually, but that’s a problem for future Taako. Present day Taako has another issue, and that’s the fucking paper.

By the time the next Starblaster meeting rolls around, Taako has read and re-read his answers to his chosen letters a hundred times. His advice is good. It’s him, anyway. Whether or not it’ll help people he doesn’t know, but they’ll be entertained so… fuck it. That’s good enough. He’s given Lucretia options. She can’t fault him, can’t act like Taako’s not pulling his weight. Somehow his column is the paper’s big draw and Lucretia knows it—that’s probably part of the reason she dislikes him so much. She’s jealous of the attention his stuff gets or something.

At the start of the meeting, Lucretia collects their assignments like she’s the teacher, again, and again moves Taako’s work to the top of the stack. She reads through the first letter and Taako’s answer to it, then starts to flip through the rest, eyebrows raising as she does.

Taako rolls his eyes. Like he’s incapable of not fucking swearing or something. He can be professional when he needs to be. “Do they meet your high standards?”

“They’re good,” Lucretia says, looking up at Taako. “They’re really good, but we—I know we asked you to do a few more, Taako, but we don’t have space for five.”

See if Taako tries to be generous again. He gives her an unimpressed look. “I know that,” he says. “I thought you’d like to be able to select the letters you wanted to use yourself, Madam Editor. That’s kind of your _thing_ , isn’t it? Control?”

Lucretia presses her lips together and sets down the stack of articles, takes a moment to close her eyes and center herself. “Thank you, Taako,” she says. “I appreciate the thought. You’re right. Having multiple options will make it easier for us to do layout work later.”

She turns her attention away from Taako, to the table as a whole. “I have an update from Principal Davenport on the paper’s status. The Board isn’t a _huge_ fan of our rebranding, but they do like the numbers we’re pulling in—our circulation stats. I’d say… I think they’re impressed. _I’m_ impressed. We all put a lot of work into our first issue and it shows. I think everyone will see that in our second issue too. Based on everything we’ve talked about and the work I see in this pile, we’re in good shape. If we persevere, I think we’ll show the Board that the paper is a valuable asset to the school community. One they can’t afford to lose.”

It’s just a school paper. Taako glances around the table, but nobody else seems to burn with the desire to point that out to Lucretia—that as much as she might care about the paper, it’s not that important. In a couple years none of them will remember it. Taako’s not going to change lives with his advice. Lup’s articles on the field hockey team aren’t going to skyrocket her teammates into fame. Barry’s interviews with the school staff won’t—actually, they’ll probably be the most long-lasting legacy of The Starblaster. They’ll at least end up pinned to a bulletin board or hung on a fridge somewhere for a little while.

One of the _nice_ things about high school is how little it counts, in the grand scheme of things. Their lives aren’t defined by who they are now. They’re going to change and grow and look back at the last four years and cringe about things they did and what they thought was cool. High school isn’t a life sentence and he doesn’t get why some people like to act like this all _matters_ so much. There are some truths Taako knows, deep down in his bones, truths he tried to share with Angus, although he doubts the kid got it—nothing is permanent; everything changes.

The world is a verb. It’s always changing, always moving, and the only way to stay in one piece is to keep moving with it. Don’t try to plant roots. Don’t try to fight the tug of the current. Push past things—people—that might reach out to grab you. Don’t let yourself be weighed down. Don’t let yourself care too much about fleeting things, like the school paper. Like people you won’t be friends with in a year.

Lup feels differently, Taako knows, but despite what people think when they see them, Lup and Taako are different people. They’re allowed to have different feelings.

Lucretia hands each of them the package for the next unit of their course. “Since I collect these from everyone it seemed easiest for me to pick them up and hand them out today. I know there was some confusion last time,” she says. “The office told me three people didn’t pick up their packages until the last minute.”

Taako rolls his eyes. Most of them _live_ at school. They don’t need more monitoring in their lives.

“If you don’t want me to pick up the packet and hand deliver it to you, I could stop, Taako,” Lucretia says, staring him down.

Taako needs to learn to be more subtle about his eye rolls. “It’s cool,” he says. “They won’t give me the next unit early if I complete them faster than the rest of you, I checked. There’s really no point in grabbing it myself.”

Lucretia frowns at him for a moment longer before turning away. “Okay. Thank you to everyone for getting everything in on time. I think we’re really starting to settle into a system that works for us as a team. We’ll talk about our next issue after we get the second one out, but everyone should be brainstorming ideas for stories already. I’m always up for discussing them with you one-on-one outside of our meeting time if you want to flush anything out. Barry and I do a lot of bouncing off each other.”

Taako can’t help the small snort of amusement that escapes him at that. He glances at Lup, for confirmation that, yes, that definitely sounded dirty, but she’s not paying attention to him, too busy just… staring at Barry on the other side of the table which is—weird.

He looks at Magnus next, and Magnus just looks worried. He’s chewing on his thumbnail and staring down at his notebook, lost in thought.

It’s Magnus biting his nails that clues Taako in, makes him remember sitting on the floor of Julia’s dorm while Noelle painted her toes and Magnus talked about his idea for a story he wasn’t sure Lucretia would like.

Taako sticks up his hand.

“Um,” Lucretia says, obviously thrown. “You really don’t—this is the first time you’ve ever asked for permission to speak in a meeting and now I’m worried. What is it, Taako?”

“Did you know Magnus coaches a kid’s team?” Taako asks. “Outside of school. That’d be a good story, right? For him to do. Not me. Taako’s good with his column.”

Lucretia blinks, then looks at Magnus. “Magnus, would that be something you were interested in?”

“Is it… good?” Magnus asks. “I mean, for a story? They’re kids. They don’t go here.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Lucretia says, shaking her head. “You go here. And a good paper should tell people more about the world around them. The kids on your team are part of that world. They’re members of the wider community. Besides, maybe you’ll inspire more of our classmates to volunteer their time. I think it would be an excellent story.”

“Oh. Good.” Magnus grins at Lucretia. “I told Taako I wasn’t sure it would make a good story, you know? But they’re good kids, even though their team is kind of bad. They’re called The Losers.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“That seems… a little self-defeating, don’t you think?” Lup asks, frowning at Magnus.

“Oh no, it’s affectionate,” Magnus says, shaking his head. “They can be The Winners when they _earn_ it.”

Taako snorts. “Seriously, don’t go into teaching, Maggie. I have a feeling you’d be kind of bad at it.”

Magnus laughs because Magnus is nearly impossible to offend.

“We still need to edit the articles, obviously, but Barry and I were talking and if anyone wants to learn more about doing layout, this issue would be a good time to start, since it’s our next course unit,” Lucretia says. “I know we didn’t extend the invitation last time, but it wasn’t personal. We were in a crunch and didn’t have time to teach you the spells you need to know. It takes practice to do it well, but it can be fun.”

Barry laughs. “That’s not what you say when we’re in the middle of it.”

“Seeing the final product after the fact is rewarding,” Lucretia insists, without sparing Barry a glance. “If you stick around, Barry will go over the basic spellwork with you. Otherwise I think we’re adjourned.”

Taako gets to his feet. Lup doesn’t.

He pauses, glancing down at her. “Lup?”

“You go ahead, Taako,” she says. “I’m going to stick around. I just… really want to learn about layout.” Her eyebrows raise as she looks at him. “Take Magnus with you.”

Taako’s eyes flick to _Barry Bluejeans_ , then back to his sister, then back to Barry again, because—really?

Lup makes a shooing motion with her hands.

“Actually,” Magnus says. “It might be kinda cool to learn about layout. I mean, I can’t use magic, but Angus can’t either and he helps out, right? So maybe—”

“Nope,” Taako says, grabbing Magnus’s arm. “We have some Elvish bullshit to go over today, my man. There’s more I need to teach you about nouns.”

“I don’t think—”

“The word for dead tree is an animate noun.”

The expression on Magnus’s face slowly morphs into a confused frown as he tries to parse Taako’s statement. “I— _why_?”

“Well, come along, big guy. Maybe we can figure it out.” Taako leads Magnus out of the room, glancing over his shoulder to wink at Lup, who shoots him a thumbs up in return. Barry’s a weird fucking choice, but at least he seems like a nice dude. A nerd, but that’s okay. Taako can get behind the idea of a nice nerd for his sister, and if anyone in the school has a life that requires livening up, it’s Barold J. Bluejeans.

*

**_Q:_ ** _ Dear Justin, _

_ My roommate keeps like... a_ lot _of haunted items in our dorm room. I don't mind in theory, but at night sometimes it can be hard to sleep with all the noise. He asked me if it was okay to bring them before we moved in together and I said yes, so I can't pretend I didn't know. What should I do?_

_ Regretful Roommate _

**_A:_ ** _ Dear Regretful, _

_ Yeesh. I don't know how many "a lot" is, but it's more than zero so it's definitely too many. Even if you agreed to have them in your shared space, did you agree to _be _haunted? That seems like it needs its own warning attached. I say get someone in to give your room a quick and dirty blessing and if the ghosts stick around, they've earned it. _

_ Just Ask Justin _

**_Q:_ ** _ Dear Justin, _

_ As a girl who likes girls, I often find it really hard to flirt. My flirting comes off as compliments and I can't tell whether to take _their _compliments as flirting. How can I make it clear that I want less of a study buddy and more of a snuggle buddy? _

_ Stumped Sapphic _

**_A:_ ** _ Dear Stumped Sapphic, _

_ You've got to be clearer. Some people might tell you to touch her arm or something. Personally, I'm not an advocate of touching people without their consent. Try calling the girls you're flirting with “hot stuff” or something similar. That usually works for me. If she's so straight she thinks that's just gals being pals then she's not work you anyway. I'd say wear my plaid, but we're all stuck in a uniform nightmare here. _

_ Yours in queer solidarity, _

_ Just Ask Justin _

**_Q:_ ** _ Dear Justin, _

_ My friend hates wearing socks and shoes in the dorm rooms. This is a problem because they keep going barefoot in my dorm room and their feet really, really stink. How should I deal with this? _

_ Signed, _

_ Stop the Stank _

**_A:_ ** _ My dude. Either enforce you've got a shoes-on rule in your dorm or tell them their feet stink. You've only got one life. Don't waste it obsessing over someone else's feet stink. _

_ Seriously, _

_ Just Ask Justin _

**_Q:_ ** _ Dear Justin, _

_My ex broke up with me a while ago and said it was because he just didn’t feel that way anymore, but less then a month later he got with a person I already really hated. We are still friends but how do I tell him this really hurt me? _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Hurt and Heartbroken _

**_A:_ ** _ Hey, Heartbroken? Quick question. Why are you trying to be friends with this dude? I don’t care what your magazines told you, there’s no point in being friends with someone who dumped you, at least not until way more time has passed. He’s not responsible for taking care of your feelings, but that’s a good thing because it sounds like he’d be pretty bad at it. Seriously, do yourself a favour and stop. Don't bother talking to him. Drop him like a hot potato. This isn’t worth the effort of telling him about your feelings because this is a dude who apparently doesn't care. I don't even know you and I can tell you're better than that. Cut him off and let him hang. Buy yourself some chocolates and move on. You don't need that in your life. _

_ Just Ask Justin _

**_Q:_ ** _ Dear Justin, _

_ My friend just started dating this guy, and he's _terrible _. He's not bad to my friend, but he's just... Obnoxious and dumb and thinks he's better than everyone else. He wants to be a cleric so he's got that "holier than thou" attitude. My friend seems happy though, so should I say something? Or should I keep my resentment to myself since he's not_ my _boyfriend?_

_ Istus Spare Me _

**_A:_ ** _ Dear Istus Spare Me, _

_ Yeah, he sounds bad. No point in creating bad blood with your friend. This dude doesn't exactly sound like a keeper. I wouldn't worry about him sticking around for long. If he's really as obnoxious as you say, your friend will chuck him eventually. If he's not that bad then eventually you'll start disliking him less and everything will be cool. _

_ Just Ask Justin _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, finally, are Taako’s replies to (some) of your questions! If you’ve got questions in mind for future chapters, please **leave them in the comments** or **submit a question via my tumblr**. Taako’s got one more column to write in this fic. Y’all were so great with your suggestions and it was honestly hard choosing which he should answer! Also, **Taako Adventurezone is not an expert and his advice should never be followed**.
> 
> I have some amazing art to share with you guys again today. First, exuberantoctopus drew [these adorable pictures of Taako and Kravitz at The Davey Lamp](http://exuberantoctopus.tumblr.com/post/168794904587/some-art-for-marywhals-fic-bury-the-lead). The expression on Taako’s face and Kravitz laughing at him are _so good_. 
> 
> Second, actually--satan over on tumblr drew [this gorgeous picture of rumpled Taako with his hot chocolate](http://actually--satan.tumblr.com/post/168870915493/fall-asleep-in-the-back-room-of-a-fantasy-coffee) from the last chapter and his expression _kills_ me. It’s so lovely. 
> 
> Please go like and reblog both their art! Reblogging especially is important for artists on tumblr, y’all. Gotta share those nice pictures around.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading. If you celebrate it, I hope you had a good Christmas. I have an Angus-centric Candlenights fic that went up on the 24th if you’re at all interested in something wholesome to tide you over until Thursday, when the next chapter of Bury the Lead will go up!


	9. Human-Interest Story

_ Human-Interest Story: A story with emotional appeal. _

*

The morning the second issue of The Starblaster comes out, Taako wakes up with a knot of tension in his stomach. He had no expectations for the first column. Honestly, he hadn’t really thought people would read it. _He’d_ liked it. He’d thought it was good, but at the time that hadn’t meant anything.

It’s different now. This time, his column is the reason most of the school is going to pick up the paper. Nobody _really_ cares what the Board talks about at meetings or Barry’s interviews with teachers and school staff. Unless someone’s on a sports team, they won’t really care about Lup and Magnus’s stuff either. The advice column, though, is about them, it directly addresses their lives and at least thirty people will pick up the paper today hoping their letter is featured in it.

Taako stays in bed, watching the hands on his clock as time slowly marches on without him. He could be showering and getting dressed, could be doing his hair and makeup, but he feels weirdly exposed, even knowing his section of the paper is published under a pseudonym.

Taako forces himself out of bed a half hour before gym. He doesn’t bother with the pretense of dressing like he’s going to participate in class. He puts on his uniform, braids his hair, turns his leather jacket lilac, splatters it with spots of white and blue and pink à la Angus, and pulls it on, then puts on pumps. There’s no bigger fuck you to Coach Taylor than days when Taako shows up with no gym clothes and improper footwear. Coach Taylor loves his floors too much to let anyone run on them in heels.

Not that Taako _runs_ in gym, but Coach Taylor isn’t big on people walking sullenly across his his floors in heels either.

Taako picks up his bag and heads to class. He’s halfway there when he turns a corner and almost bowls over Merle and Davenport. Honestly, it’s the nightmare scenario.

“Taako,” Merle says, a self-satisfied smile on his face that says _checkmate_. “We were just talking about your new column.”

“Yes,” Davenport agrees. “I’m glad you joined the paper. It’s obvious you have a knack for it.”

“Well, you know. Telling other people what they should be doing and judging the choices that brought them to the point of writing to a high school paper for advice.” Taako shrugs because yeah, of _course_ he’s good at this. “No surprise there.”

The tension in his stomach does ease somewhat, with the compliment. Davenport has to deal with hundreds of shitty teenagers every day. He’s not invested in lying to them for the sake of his job the same way Merle is. He just wouldn’t bring it up if he thought it was shitty.

“While I’ve got you here. We need to make another appointment,” Merle says. “Our last conversation was cut short when I had to deal with Leon and Magnus.”

“Magnus didn’t get in trouble for that, did he?” Taako asks, frowning. “Angus is a little kid and the Hammerheads were the ones who started it.”

“You can ask Magnus about it,” Merle says. “I know you two have become friends.”

Taako pauses. First Lup, now Merle. He’ll admit to friend _ly_ , maybe, but _friends_? Still no. Magnus probably would tell him all about the meeting if he asked though. Magnus doesn’t understand how filters work.

“Uh, sure,” Taako says. “Whatever. As long as he’s not suspended for something Jerree deserved. You’re the one who told me you couldn’t allow bullying at your school, Princi’port.”

“Magnus hasn’t been suspended,” Davenport says. “He and Jerree have _both_ been punished for their part in the fight. I don’t allow bullying at my school and all my staff members know that. That’s—”

Down the hall, someone lets out a scream that’s equal parts disgust and frustration.

The three of them turn as one towards the sound and there’s Carey Fangbattle, holding her skirt away from herself with one hand, the other dripping with lime green pudding.

“How many _times_?” she asks no one and everyone, shaking pudding off her hand, darting a glance around the hallway, like maybe someone cursed her in the moment. “How many times is this going to _happen_? Magnus Burnsides, I’m going to _murder_ you!”

Taako presses his lips tight together in an effort not to laugh and give himself away because _fuck_ —pocket pudding is even better than he thought. One side of Carey’s skirt is just drenched with it. It look like it feels absolutely disgusting.

He’s a fucking genius.

Carey is swearing and wiping pudding off on Killian’s shirt while Killian laughs like this this is the funniest thing she’s seen all week even though it _can’t_ be the first time she's gotten to witness Carey’s pockets suddenly being full of pudding. Taako approves of Killian’s sense of humour. 

Davenport lets out a world-weary sigh. “I guess I better see what that’s about,” he says, with the air of a man on his way to the gallows.

Taako can’t quite help the snicker that escapes him, but fucking— _pocket pudding_.

Davenport gives him an unimpressed look as he leaves—uncalled for, given that Davenport has no idea Taako’s responsible for the pudding.

Taako watches him wade through giggling students to Carey—now in the process of trying to shove her hand into Killian’s mouth to stifle her laughter—then looks down at Merle. “Cool. I should get going. Class and all.”

He manages half a turn towards the gym before Merle stops him.

“Taako. Our appointment?”

Taako refrains from making a face, but it’s a close thing. He’d been hoping Carey’s pocket pudding explosion was enough to distract Merle. “Listen,” he says. “I’ve got, uh, a lot of work coming up? Homework and what have you. So I’m not sure if our appointments are the _best_ use of my time…”

“I know you don’t have a class first thing Tuesday and Thursday mornings anymore,” Merle says. “Maybe that’s when we should have our appointments.”

Well, fuck.

Taako and Merle stare each other down for a long moment. Taako’s the first one to break. “Tomorrow after school,” he says. “Normal time works for me.”

“Perfect.” Merle steps aside, so Taako can move past him down the hall. “Don’t want to make you late for phys ed.”

“Oh yeah,” Taako says. “That would be a _real_ tragedy.”

Except now he actually can’t be late for gym because Merle will probably check up on it. It’s like Merle’s punishing him and—actually, he probably is. Just because Merle’s a counselor and a crunchy cleric for Pan doesn’t mean he’s not also a son of a bitch.

Taako goes to PE because he has to. He grabs a copy of The Starblaster from a newspaper stand on his way there. The cover story is on extracurricular funding—what has it and what doesn’t, how much funding each individual sports team and club gets. There are graphs and charts. The Starblaster, Taako notes, is very _low_ on the funding chart.

Lucretia and Barry co-wrote the story, because of course they did. It’s basically thinly veiled Starblaster propaganda. Taako assumes it is, anyway, because he only skims the text. That’s not what he’s here for. Taako flips to the back of the paper as he walks into the gym and heads straight to the bleachers. Coach Taylor doesn’t even try to stop him from immediately taking a seat and putting his feet up. It’s good they have this understanding.

Taako starts to read his column, only as soon as he does he sees things he’d like to change. Things he _can’t_ change because there they are, in print, staring him dead in the eye. They might as well be set in stone. He used _dude_ twice in one of the letters and he wants to cut one of them immediately, plus the haunted item them could have been _funnier_ and the puns he could have used about possession and possession _s_ are only occurring to him now, and it—fuck. Taako didn’t sign up to _care_ about his writing.

He snaps the paper shut and tosses it to the side. It flutters away and slips out of sight between the bleachers, onto the floor below them, and Taako is so okay with that. If anyone tries to talk to him about Weird Ghost Roommate Guy and the advice Taako gave him, he might literally die with how little he wants to hear anything he wrote said aloud.

Taako isn’t used to feeling this way about… anything. Suddenly he both wants people to care and think his column is good and also to _never_ have a conversation with anyone about his column ever again. Because on the one hand, _of course_ his advice is good and his writing is clever and funny, but on the other—he could do better. He could do a _lot_ better.

This was easier the first time when he had no expectations the first time. Now he knows people will read it and that they expect something from him.

If this is what being a writer feels like, Lucretia, Barry, and Angus are more unstable than Taako thought.

*

Taako walks into magical theory and sits down beside Barry. Technically their seats aren’t assigned, but the class—without ever discussing it—picked spots on the first day and nobody’s moved since. Taako’s is in the back corner, by the windows. Barry’s is at the front of the room. 

“Taako?” Barry gives him a confused look. “Is there something wrong?”

“Do you not want my company, Barold? I’m insulted,” Taako says.

Ridiculously, this works, and Barry immediately shuts his mouth on whatever protest he was about to voice. 

Taako has no idea who normally sits next to Barry, but he hopes they enjoy his usual view of the quad because he’s spent all day obsessing over avoiding the paper—lunch with an Angus eager to discuss his articles and a Ren who just wanted to giggle over some kid at their school dealing with a room full of haunted objects had been hell. The best way to deal with the weird mix of emotions he currently feels about his article, Taako figures, is to distract himself with other important things—important things like getting to the bottom of Lup’s weird crush on Barold J. Bluejeans and the not insignificant amount of time Barry spends with Lucretia. It’s obvious that Barry’s _aware_ of Lup’s charms, because Taako’s seen how he blushes around her, but there’s a big gap between recognizing that Taako’s sister is fucking awesome and sincerely and openly wanting to date her.

Besides, Taako can make Barry blush too, and he’s pretty sure Barry’s not into him.

“So,” Barry says, after a long moment of silence. “Have you... looked at the paper yet today? I think we put together a solid issue.”

“No,” Taako says, _very_ firmly. “No, we are not talking about the paper. We spend all our time working on it. We’re not going to talk about it in our free time too.”

“I don’t—I don’t know if I’d say _all_ our time,” Barry says. “I guess it’s a fair bit of work, especially now that we’re doing it for course credit, but it’s a lot of fun, and it’s going to look good when we apply to the Institute, right?”

There is something sort of endearing about the fact that Barry just… remembers that. It soothes Taako’s ruffled feathers somewhat.

“Yeah,” Taako says. “I mean, I’m not sure how into a high school advice columnist they’ll be, but it’ll certainly add flavour to my application.” He snorts. “Not that I need any more of that. It’s going to be a fucking trip for them to read.”

Barry probably agrees with Taako. Taako assumes that’s why he doesn’t refute it, at least.

Taako rests his elbow on the table and leans towards Barry. “You and Lucretia spend a lot of time together, huh? Working on the paper? Burning that midnight oil?”

“I mean, I guess?” Barry says, after a moment of hesitation. “We’re not usually up that late working. We’ve never had to break curfew to get an issue out or anything. Not even the first issue of The Starblaster and that was twice the length we’re used to.” He shrugs, smiling. “It’s nice having more content, honestly. It feels more real when you get to open the paper up.”

“Right,” Taako says. “But like… Barry, you spend a _lot_ of time together.”

That seems to clue Barry in to what Taako’s implying. He goes bright red. “Oh _no_ ,” Barry says. “Lucretia’s not—and I’m not, with her… we’re just friends.”

“Uh-huh.” Taako tilts his head, looking Barry over. He does seem sincere in his denial, not just like a lad who’s been called out on his embarrassing crush. The wide-eyed befuddlement in response to the suggestion that he might like Lucretia _that way_ seems very real. “So is there anyone you _do_ like, Barold? Any… cute elves, for example?”

Barry’s distress is not eased by Taako’s acceptance of his denial and subsequent follow up question. If anything, he looks _more_ worried, eyes darting towards the front of the room and to the tables surrounding theirs. Neither the teacher nor their classmates seem prepared to jump to his aid.

“Taako, you are… very attractive,” Barry says. “But you’re also the most terrifying person I’ve ever met, so I don’t think—”

It takes Taako a moment to realize what’s happened here. “No,” he says, reaching out and grabbing Barry’s arm as he shakes his head. “Barry, _no_. That’s—” Taako lets out a slightly manic laugh and _yeah_ , okay, this was bad. “Not _me_. Definitely not me. There are multiple elves in the world. Multiple elves at our _school_ , even.”

“Oh thank the gods,” Barry says, relaxing in his seat. “Not that you’re not very attractive, because you are, obviously, but…”

“But yes, I’m very scary and you couldn’t handle me,” Taako agrees, nodding firmly. “I get it. You’re good. We’re on the same page here, Barold. It’s a page we can both embrace the fuck out of.” He pauses. “So… any other elves you think are _very attractive_? Lup, obviously.”

There’s that blush again, brighter and redder and more full on this time, and the tension in Barry’s shoulders is back. He looks uncomfortable and startled and _bingo_.

Taako smiles and risks leaning in close again. “Barry. Barry, you just rejected me. You need to tell me the truth.”

“I didn’t reject you. You have to be _interested_ to be rejected. I just misunderstood you, so—”

“No, I definitely feel rejected,” Taako insists, shaking his head. “You definitely owe me.”

Cam, the sorcerer who teaches Magical Theory, clears his throat remarkably close to their table. When Taako looks up, he realizes it’s because he’s literally standing over them.

Cam raises an eyebrow. “Do you two want to share your conversation with the entire class, or can I begin?”

Barry looks like he wants to die. Taako waves a hand carelessly. “Nah, go ahead,” he says. “We’re cool. We can pick this up later.”

Cam does have the good sense to look amused. “Thank you, Taako. I appreciate your cooperation,” he says, before walking back to the front of the room.

Taako waits until the lights go down and the slides go up before leaning closer to Barry. “So,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “You ever think about how ridiculous it is for a sorcerer to be teaching us about magical theory? This is a dude who can’t _do_ rituals and he’s still hot on the theory behind them. Like, I know I call you a nerd a lot, but _yikes_.”

“You call me a nerd?”

Taako pauses and thinks over his last few interactions with Barry. “Huh,” he says. “Maybe not to your face.”

“That… isn’t very reassuring, Taako.”

“Wasn’t meant to be.” Taako glances at Cam, but Cam is either super into his slides or very into ignoring Taako and Barry. 

Honestly? Good life choice. 

“So you never answered me.”

“I’m not required to answer you, bud,” Barry says, also stealing a look at Cam. He glances at the slideshow as it shifts slides, then down at the blank sheet of paper in front of him. “I need to take notes.”

“He’s just doing the importance of preparation in ritual casting,” Taako says, after a cursory glance at the slide on screen. “It’s basically review if you did the reading and I’ve talked to you for more than fifteen seconds, so I assume you did the reading.”

“If I tell you what you want to know will you let me listen to the rest of the lecture?”

Taako considers this. On the one hand, he honestly doesn’t give a fuck about the lecture itself. Magical theory is boring and Taako doesn’t really get why they need to go over the same thing a million fucking times. On the other hand, even if Barry’s already basically confirmed his suspicions, it would be nice to have it be official.

“Yeah, deal,” he says. “Spill.”

Barry hesitates, fiddling with his pen. “Well, I… I know she doesn’t… feel the same way, but… Lup’s really cool, right?”

“Oh, the coolest.” Taako grins because he fucking _knew_ it. “You like my sister.”

“I’m sorry,” Barry says. “If that makes you uncomfortable then I can—”

“Lup is a big girl, Barold. I have no say in her love life,” Taako says, snorting. “I don’t _want_ to have a say in it. She can make decisions for herself. Are you going to tell her about it?”

“I don’t know,” Barry says. “It’s not really—we have to work together and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, you know? I don’t want to be one of those guys who just… I don’t know. I don’t want to come off as a jerk. I don’t want her to feel like I’m pushing her for anything she’s uncomfortable with.”

Taako looks Barold and his chubby, somehow denim-clad—despite the school dress code and uniform—body over. “Lup could take you,” he says. “She’d just blow you up if you tried anything she wasn’t into.”

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” Barry says. “Can I please pay attention to class now?”

Taako makes a face, but he _did_ promise, technically, to allow Barry to concentrate. “Yes, okay,” he says. “Then we pick this up again.”

Barry does not seem appropriately thankful for Taako’s generosity.

*

When class ends, Taako sticks close to Barry and lingers while Barry tries to outwait him. Taako’s not patient, but he’s stubborn as fuck and he’s set his mind on this so Barry doesn’t stand a chance.

Obviously, they leave the classroom together, the last ones out.

“So your crush on Lup,” Taako says, once they’re in the hallway. “Let’s talk about that some more.”

“Can we talk about literally anything else?” Barry asks. “What about… Magnus? He’s got a crush on Julia Waxmen. That’s interesting.”

“Julia Waxmen isn’t my sister,” Taako says. “Not as interesting.”

“Angus... “ Barry trails off, apparently at a loss for what could possibly be interesting about Angus, which sounds about right to Taako.

Taako smiles beatifically at Barry. “Yes?”

Barry’s shoulders slump. “Yes, fine. I like Lup a lot. She’s really cool and smart and funny. And she’s very attractive, which you know because you two are identical twins.”

“Thank you.” Taako pats Barry’s arm. “Was that so hard?”

“It was, Taako,” Barry says. “It really was.”

Taako laughs as they turn the corner of the mostly empty hallway and runs straight into Maarvey’s chest.

“Hey,” Maarvey sneers. “Watch where you’re going, newsie.”

It takes Taako a moment to parse that _newsie_ is supposed to be an insult. “I mean, you were the one standing still in the middle of the hallway, my man. You had plenty of time to move.”

The few people left in the hall are pointedly not looking at either the Hammerheads or Barry and Taako. They’re walking by as quickly as possible, trying not to get involved. Cowards. And sure, Taako would also like to remove himself from this situation, but Jerree and Little Jerry have stationed themselves on either side of Maarvey, making it difficult for him and Barry to just leave.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Barry says. “I don’t think _you_ want any trouble either. Let’s just move on, okay? I’m sure Taako didn’t mean it.”

“Nah,” Taako says, after a moment. “I definitely meant to turn the corner and run headlong into this obvious trap. You boys been waiting long? I’m flattered.”

“You better be careful what you say to us,” Little Jerry says. “You don’t want to end up getting hurt, do you?”

“Principal Davenport doesn’t allow bullying in his school,” Taako says, crossing his arms over his chest and giving them an unimpressed look. “If you throw a single punch and expect me not to go and tell someone about it _first thing_ , you’re living in a dream world, bubelah.”

“We’ll just tell Davenport you started it.” Maarvey says this like he’s playing a trump card, like he thinks he just won whatever weird fight he imagines is happening here. “We know all about you now. You’re on _thin ice_. You almost got expelled.”

Taako frowns because, yeah, technically that’s true, but there’s no way for the Hammerheads to find out about it. Taako might not be down with Merle anymore, but he _knows_ Merle wouldn’t talk about the looming threat of his expulsion with these clowns. Davenport wouldn’t either, and the only other people who could possibly know, besides Lup or Ren, are the other teachers. And they’re _teachers_ , they wouldn’t—

Leon.

Leon, who Taako terrorized until he got kicked out of his useless class. Leon, who brought Magnus to Merle and sent whichever one of these chucklefucks Magnus punched to the nurse. Leon, who caught Taako sneaking in late the other night, but didn’t want to confront him about it. Leon, who would _love_ to get rid of him, but doesn’t like actually dealing with Taako himself.

Taako fucking hates adults.

He suppresses the urge to react and keeps his exterior expressionless as stone as he looks up at Maarvey. “Do you really think you can make me do something stupid enough to get myself expelled?”

“Yeah,” Maarvey says, and takes a step closer, prodding Taako in the chest with a finger. He smells like cigarettes and hair gel. “I really do. I think you’re not so big when you know you might get in trouble. You were never going to use a spell on us. You’re too much of a chicken.”

Taako’s eyes narrow. “You’re not going to goad me into attacking you,” he says. “Fuck off. All of you. I’m not—”

Taako doesn’t get to finish telling them what he’s _not_ because Little Jerry folds over at the waist and throws up on the floor. Taako hops back, out of range, and Maarvey looks _horrified_.

“Little Jerry,” he says, reaching out to rub his friend’s back. “Buddy, are you okay?”

“I don’t feel so good,” Little Jerry says, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand.

“I _told_ you not to eat so fast at lunch,” Jerree says. “You know how your stomach gets when you have too much spicy food.”

Taako glances at Barry—to confirm he’s not alone in observing whatever the fuck is happening right now—just in time to see Barry’s wand slip back into his bag.

Taako is impressed. He wouldn’t have thought Barold had it in him.

Maarvey looked up from rubbing Little Jerry’s back and glares. “We’ll continue this later,” he says. “After we take Little Jerry to the nurse’s office.”

“Yeah,” Little Jerry says, with half his usual conviction, and then he’s sick all over Maarvey’s shoes.

Taako makes a face and takes another step back. He hooks his arm through Barry’s. “Let’s blow this pop stand, kemosabe. I’m getting a real fantasy Exorcist vibe up in here.”

Barry allows Taako to lead him away from the horror show that is the Hammerheads, down the hallway and around the corner. As soon as they’re safely out of sight, Taako gives in to the urge to laugh.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” he says, shaking with laughter and propping himself against the wall. “Sweet _Istus_ , Barold. What did you _do_ to him?”

“Well,” Barry says. “I cast Ray of Sickness. I thought it would… distract them.”

“ _Yep_.” Taako grins at Barry. “Yep, I’d say it definitely distracted them all right. Barold, _my man_. Up top.” Taako holds his hand up for a high five.

Barry raises his own hand and slowly, slowly taps their palms together. It’s possibly the saddest high-five Taako’s ever witnessed, let alone been a part of.

“Do you want to try that again?” he asks, tilting his head. “I feel like you weren’t sure what you were doing.”

“I thought… maybe you’d pull your hand away at the last minute,” Barry says. “I’ve seen you and Lup do that before.”

“Well… fair.” Taako shrugs and opts for slinging his arm around Barry’s shoulders instead of putting them both through the discomfort of another sad high-five. “Student lounge, now that we know it’ll be Hammerhead free?”

“Sounds good, bud.”

The lounge, when they reach it, is still moderately empty. Lup is there, stretched out on one of the couches—possibly to make sure she saved the whole thing for when Taako inevitably showed up, possibly because she felt like taking a nap while receiving dirty looks from everyone else in the room.

Taako, because he’s Lup’s brother and he loves her, tugs Barry over to the couch and lets go of him so he can flop down on top of her stomach.

“Ow, fuck!” Lup slaps his side, hard, and Taako cackles as she shoves at him. “Dingus. Why are you in such a good mood?”

“Barold is brilliant, that’s why,” Taako says, gesturing up at Barry. “Barry, tell her about the thing.”

Barry hesitates. “The… thing?”

“The spell you literally just cast.”

“Oh.” Barry rubs the back of his neck, going red again. “I mean, we’re not supposed to use magic in the halls, but I may have used Ray of Sickness on Little Jerry.”

“Shit,” Lup says, laughing as she manages to get her legs out from under Taako. She shuffles over, making room for Barry to sit next to her. “Where’d a boy like you learn a spell like that?”

“Oh, uh, the magic club I’m part of,” Barry says, shrugging. “We’re always looking for new members if you want to join.”

“I mean, shit. Normally I’d say no to more clubs because field hockey and the paper keep me pretty busy, but this one sounds cool.” Lup looks at Taako. “Babe?”

Taako isn’t going to get in the way of a potential situation for these two chucklefucks to work out what they’re feeling for each other. “Nah,” he says. “I’m good with my current level of participation in school life. You do you though.”

Lup smiles and gives Taako’s knee a pat because she probably gets that he’s doing this for her, even if they haven’t discussed the fact that she has the hots for Barry yet. “I always do. So is this just… cool magic spells club, or like…?”

“No,” Barry says. “I mean, yeah, it’s a cool club, but we’re actually focused on a specific school of magic because at school we don’t—”

“Taako?”

Taako turns towards the sound of Magnus’s voice and Barry stops explaining whatever the fuck he was about to get into. It sounds a lot like more magical theory to Taako and he _just_ came from that class. He can’t take any more of it now. Magnus is standing behind the couch, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

Taako leans back to look at him. “What’s up, big guy?”

“Can I… talk to you?” Magnus glanced at Lup and Barry, briefly. “Alone?”

Taako’s eyebrows raise. “Well, sure,” he says, after a beat. “Is this another pudding thing, because I’ve got to tell you—I don’t think Lup will let me burn that many spell slots at once again.”

“No, it’s—no. No magic required,” Magnus promises. “As far as I know, Carey’s only set off half the spells so far. I just… wanted some advice on a thing.”

Lup snorts. “And you’re asking Taako?”

Taako elbows Lup reflexively and she jabs him back. It turns into a brief, fierce scuffle on the couch, with Barry actively trying to avoid getting hit or having one of them end up in his lap—Taako is being a good wingman, thank you very much. It’s not his fault Lup takes the idea and runs with it, attempting to shove Taako on top of Barry too, when she gets the chance.

Taako ends up falling off the edge of the couch and hitting the floor with a loud thump. He sits there for a moment, then sticks his tongue out at Lup.

“Yeah, see?” Lup looks up at Magnus. “You sure _that’s_ the twin you want advice from?”

“He’s sure. And _you_ don’t deserve my company right now. Barry, keep an eye on her.” Taako pushes himself to his feet and dusts off his clothes. “Where are we headed?” he asks, grabbing his bag from the table. If he leaves Lup and Barry alone together, maybe something will happen. Barry needs all the help he can get.

To be honest, Lup probably does too.

Magnus hesitates for a moment, glancing around the student lounge. It’s getting busier now, the cold outside driving everyone indoors. “Dorms?”

“Lead the way.” Taako waves goodbye to Lup and Barry and falls into step beside Magnus. “So… what’s up?”

Magnus twists his hands together, looking so nervous that if he doesn’t ask Taako either to help him hide a body or to prom whatever’s going on here _has_ to be an exaggeration.

“You… know I like Julia, right?”

Taako snorts because everyone knows how Magnus feels about Julia. “Yes, my dude. I know you like Julia. I mean, I get it. She’s cool. She helped with the whole pocket pudding thing. I saw one of those go off this morning, by the way. It was _magnificent_.”

“They’re perfect. Carey hates me,” Magnus says, grinning at Taako briefly. It fades back into nervousness quickly. “Um. You’re really good at giving advice, so…”

Taako isn’t quite sure he gets what’s happening here. Is Magnus asking him for advice asking a girl out? If so, it’s _baffling_ —literally the most surreal part of what has been a fairly weird period of Taako’s life. He writes a popular advice column for the school paper; he was kicked out of cooking class; he almost kissed a goth barista who’s not-so-secretly a giant nerd.

Life is wild.

“Okay,” Taako says, as they step out onto the quad. The air is brisk. Even with his leather jacket on, Taako can feel the cold. “Okay, so… we should definitely go to my room because I need snacks and you need to catch me up on whatever the backstory here is. She seemed to like you just fine. You could just, you know, _ask_.”

Magnus shakes his head firmly. “Oh no,” he says. “No, I can’t do that.”

Yeah, Taako definitely needs snacks for this.

He leads the way to the building and his room, since he doesn’t have a roommate to worry about. It’s a mess, but that’s fine. Taako kicks clothing and other assorted junk out of the way and gestures for Magnus to sit on the floor.

“Okay.” Taako grabs a bag of sour cream and onion chips and a bottle of sparkly green polish from what was once his desk but is now a precarious stack of _stuff_ and then joins Magnus on the carpet. “We have chips and nail polish. Let’s get down to business. Give me your hand and tell me why you can’t just ask Julia Waxmen out.”

“Well, she’s—cool,” Magnus says, in a tone of voice that makes it sound like this should be obvious to Taako. “She’s the coolest person I’ve ever met in real life. She’s strong and smart and everyone likes her because she’s just—I mean, she’s the captain of the field hockey team and president of the student council and _everyone_ likes her. Plus she’s really funny? I know you haven’t spent much time with her, but she is, right? She let us into the girls dorms just to fill her friend’s pockets with pudding. And she’s _kind_ too, like with getting your sister for you. That was so brave. She could have gotten in trouble.” Magnus sighs, staring wistfully at Taako’s window. “What could she see in me?”

Taako rolls his eyes and opens the chips before he uncaps the nail polish in his hand so he can start doing Magnus’s nails. “My dude, you’re one of the basketball team’s star players. Some people might categorize you as cool too.”

Magnus laughs like Taako just suggested something ridiculous and not an objective fact. “No I’m not,” he says. “I’m—I mean, yeah, I’m on the basketball team, but that’s just sports. I guess people know me because of that, but they definitely don’t think I’m _cool_. I mean, okay, maybe they think I’m a little cooler now, but that’s only because I’m friends with you and Lup.”

Taako pauses and looks up at Magnus because—no. Lup he gets. Lup is definitely popular. She jokes about people wanting to be like her, but those jokes are drawn from fact—people do. “What?”

Magnus sticks his free hand in the bag of chips and takes a small handful. “Because you two are so cool, you know?” he says, shovelling them in his mouth. “I mean, even when people don’t know it’s you they still think you’re cool, with the column.”

Taako narrows his eyes at Magnus, then turns his attention back to his nails before he drips polish on the carpet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not popular.”

“Being popular and being cool aren’t the same thing,” Magnus says. “You’re like—you know.” He gestures with his free hand. “You.”

Taako does not know. Taako is very confused and nothing Magnus says makes sense. “My dude, I got kicked out of home ec.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Magnus says, eyes lighting up. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean! How many other people do you know who’ve successfully led their classmates in chanting for a teacher to eat something they didn’t want to eat?”

When Magnus puts it like that, Taako can almost see the logic.

“What the fuck.”

Magnus smiles at Taako and holds out a chip for him. “Can we talk about Julia now?”

Right. The reason they’re here in the first place. Taako eats the chip Magnus is offering him and nods. “Sure, because this is an easy one. Just fucking tell her you like her. I don’t know what bullshit fantasy Ocean’s Eleven advice you’re expecting from me here, my dude, but that’s all I’ve got. Other than _say how you feel_ the Taako advice well is dry. This isn’t hard. The only reason I’d choose this question for my column would be because of how little room it would take up. I could fit at least two more in, probably three.”

Taako doesn’t know when he started to think about things like layout, but apparently he has.

The look on Magnus’s face says he doesn’t think Taako’s giving him his best work here.

Taako rolls his eyes. “Listen. Okay. Are you a nice person?”

Magnus hesitates, then nods.

“Good,” Taako says. He finishes painting the last finger on Magnus’s right hand. “Give me your other hand. So, is Julia a nice person?”

“Well, _yeah_ ,” Magnus says, swapping hands. He blows on the nails to help them dry faster. “Of course she is.”

“Cool. So what’s the fucking problem, my dude? She’s nice. She’s not going to read your shitty poetry out to the entire cafeteria or laugh in your face. If she says no, she says no. How you ask her isn’t going to change her answer because chances are she already knows whether or not she’d theoretically go out with you.”

“I thought, maybe, I’d do like… I don’t know. I could write her anonymous love letters. Or publish something in the paper?”

“No.” Taako has never given easier advice in his _life_ than this. “Fuck no. Are you kidding me? I can’t think of a worse way to ask someone out. Just _say_ something and if she says no, don’t be a dick about it. Move the fuck on. Plenty of fish in the sea and all that.”

He looks up from doing Magnus’s nails. Magnus looks more worried now than when they started, but he came to Taako for advice and so far Taako thinks he’s doing a pretty good job at doling out tough love. “You can ask me as many times as you want and propose increasingly ridiculous scenarios for asking her on a date, but my answer isn’t going to change. Just go up to her, tell her you think she’s cool, and ask her out.”

Magnus makes a wordless, frustrated sound and slumps in front of Taako, shoulders hunching in. “I was hoping you’d have some advice that didn’t involve asking her.”

“I mean, I guess you could wait to see if she asks you out first, but that seems like kind of a shitty plan so actually no.” Taako gives Magnus an unimpressed look as he finished up his left hand. “You’re not allowed to just wait and say I told you to. I take it back. She can’t read your mind. You have to talk to her.”

“Fine.” Magnus holds his hands out, admiring his nails. “This is a good colour. I like the glitter.”

“Taako has good taste.” Taako screws the top back on the bottle of polish and reaches into the bag of chips. “You’ve got to sit there and let them dry now. Taako’s also too cheap for a top coat.”

“That’s okay. I have one in my room,” Magnus says, because Magnus Burnsides is apparently a man of hidden depths. He looks up from his nails and smiles at Taako. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it. Literally. Say nothing to no one. At least I have some control over who I dole out my wisdom to when it’s in the paper. Harder to filter this shit when you come at me in real life.” Taako takes another chip from the bag. 

Magnus, with his freshly painted nails, gives the bag a mournful look.

Taako pauses, looking him over, and raises an eyebrow. “How are you at catching things with your mouth?”

“Pretty good,” Magnus says, no hesitation. He looks at the chip in Taako’s hand, then grins and shuffles himself back a couple feet. “Fuck yeah, let’s do this. I’m ready.”

Taako tosses the chip at Magnus’s face and Magnus lunges to try and catch it. He misses, but the chip hits his cheek so it’s _close_ and Taako is reaching for another and adjusting his stance almost before it hits the floor. “Again,” he says. “Eyes on the prize, Maggie.”

Magnus nods, the expression on his face turning deadly serious as he locks his eyes on the chip in Taako’s hand. “We’ve got this.”

They lose half a dozen chips to the mess that surrounds them on Taako’s floor before Magnus manages to snag one out of the air with his open mouth. The moment after it happens is one of stunned, mutual amazement, and then they high-fiving so hard the impact reverberates down Taako’s arm.

“We did it!” Magnus high-fives Taako again, laughing. “I told you I was good at catching things with my mouth!”

“ _Hell_ yeah!” Taako is grinning at Magnus and it’s weird because this is fun and Taako’s not supposed to be having _fun_ hanging out with Magnus Burnsides. “Didn’t even take that many tries!”

“Again,” Magnus says, moving further back, a determined expression on his face. “More distance this time.”

Taako’s never going to find all the chips he’s about the launch across his room, but _fuck it_ —Taako wants to see how good they can get at this before dinner. He wants to rise to the challenge Magnus is setting them. He wants to shut off his brain and not worry about his next column or his upcoming meeting with Merle or whether or not Barold and his sister are going to get their shit together.

Taako throws another chip and it hits Magnus in the eye, which has them both laughing.

Magnus called Taako his friend and Taako’s gut reaction had been no, of course not. He’d dismissed it coming from Lup and Davenport and Merle. He’d been absolutely _certain_ that they weren’t friends.

Taako tosses a chip at Magnus’s forehead, just for kicks, and Magnus doesn’t even bother trying to catch it, too busy giggling and rubbing salt out of his eye.

It’s possible, maybe, that he was wrong.

*

Taako doesn’t want to see Merle, but he can’t avoid it anymore. Tracking him down with Davenport was a dirty trick, but it was effective. And, okay, it’s not news that Merle’s wilier than he looks—it’s one of the reasons Taako liked him before—but having that wiliness turned against him makes Taako grumpy.

Taako’s actively avoided thinking about their last conversation since it happened. All but telling Merle he maybe sometimes thought of him as something like a father figure is the worst thing he’s done to himself, like, _ever_ , and Taako’s gotten himself into some pretty fucked up situations.

For example: he’s now apparently friends with Magnus Burnsides.

Taako shows up outside Merle’s office to find the door already open. He’s a little disappointed. There’s no time to steel himself for whatever’s going to happen once Merle starts trying to make him talk. Still, he’s Taako. He’s got this. He’s not going to let some old dwarf get the best of him.

Taako knocks on the doorframe and steps inside. Merle is watering the succulents on his windowsill, bent close to them and speaking softly.

“I’m here,” Taako says, closing the door and walking over to sit in his usual chair. “You better make this quick, Merle. You’ve only got me for half an hour.”

Merle sets his watering can down and turns to face Taako, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll cut to the chase then, kid. I’ve got two questions for you today: how are you feeling and where do you see yourself in the future?”

Taako blinks. Those are—very different questions. “I’m fine,” he says. “And I’m going to apply to the Institute of Planar Research. I’ll be a transmutation specialist. You know this already. Getting forgetful in your old age, my man?”

Merle looks Taako over and his gaze is… sharp, shrewd in a way Taako’s not comfortable with. Merle looks like he knows something Taako doesn’t.

“You want to go to the Institute because Lup’s going,” he says.

“Yeah, of course,” Taako says, because they’ve _been through this_ before. Taako and Lup have had this planned for years. Since Lup suggested applying to Neverwinter High in the first place. They’d go to a fancy high school, ace their classes, show everyone what they were worth, and then they’d go to a fancy university too. They’d get fancy degrees and fancy jobs and nobody would ever be able to overlook them again.

Nobody would treat them like they were worthless. Nobody would abandon them.

Merle nods. “Right,” he says. “So what do you want to do for _you_?”

Taako doesn’t understand the question. “I want to go to the Institute with Lup,” he says, slower this time.

Merle looks—disappointed, maybe. Like he thinks Taako should have changed his answer even though he just asked the same fucking question twice. Taako’s got a _plan_ and it’s a good one because it’s Lup’s plan.

“Are those your only questions? Because I have homework I could be doing,” Taako says. “Gotta diagram some rituals.”

“Nah, let’s go back to the first question for a bit,” Merle says. “Because people who are feeling fine generally don’t yell the way you yelled at me the last time we talked.”

“Definitely didn’t yell the last time we talked. I feel like Princi’port might have dealt with that instead of the whole pocket pudding thing if I had,” Taako says, making a show of examining his nails. _This_ particular topic is one he’d been hoping they’d both want to avoid, but _of course_ Merle needs to bring it up.

“Taako. You’re a smart kid and you’re the one who says you’ve got a tight schedule today. Let’s cut to the chase.” Merle raises his eyebrows. “What’s up?”

Taako presses his lips together, staring steadfastly at the smudge of green polish on the side of his index finger, left from painting Magnus’s nails. Taako should do his nails too. Orange, maybe. He’s got a nice bright orange with a lot of glitter that’ll clash nicely with his uniform.

“Taako.”

“Fuck, _fine_.” Taako glances up at Merle and his carefully constructed, _falsely_ concerned fucking expression. “I heard you talking to Lucretia. I don’t know why you’re even doing this. I mean, since I’m so _frustrating_. Why even bother with me, Merle?”

Merle blinks, like he’s been thrown by Taako exposing his fucking lies, and then he _laughs_. He laughs, and he walks over to the chair beside Taako’s and takes a seat.

Taako pushes his own chair back, adding a good foot of space between them, his hands curling into fists at his sides because what the _fuck_?

“Are you honestly going to sit there and tell me you’re not frustrating?” Merle asks. “I think you’re a little more self-aware than that, kid. You go out of your way to _be_ frustrating. And yeah, if you eavesdrop on private conversations you’re going to hear shit you don’t like hearing, but Taako—just because you frustrate me doesn’t mean I don’t like you. I mean, shit—you’re stubborn as hell, spiteful, selfish—so what? You’re complicated. So is everyone. It’s a good thing.”

None of that _sounds_ like a good thing to Taako. He pushes his chair back a little further. “Thanks, Merle. This is exactly the kind of support and encouragement I expect from my counsellor.”

Merle snorts. “Zone of Truth policy,” he says. “It applies to me as much as you. So let’s start again, and this time let’s be honest—you heard me tell Lucretia you could be frustrating and you felt hurt by that.”

Taako makes a face. When Merle puts it like that it sounds so—emotional.

Merle keeps going. “When someone does something you don’t like, your first instinct is to lash out. To hurt them back. You really think that’s the best way to go through life? You’re one of the smartest kids—the smartest _people_ —I know. Come on.”

“What do you want me to do, Merle? Fucking—smile at people who treat me like an idiot? Great,” Taako says, crossing his arms over his chest. “The next time someone tries to walk all over me I’ll let them. Cool. Cool plan.”

Merle shakes his head. “Choices aren’t binary, Taako. Shit, you should know that better than most people. I’ve never known you to go about something in a straightforward way if there’s any possibility of adding a little flare instead. You’ve got more than two options. It’s not just lashing out or acting like a doormat.”

“Choices,” Taako repeats, filling the word with as much disdain as he can muster. “What _choices_? People are assholes. I don’t have any control over that—people are terrible and the world is bad and no amount of smiling or—or whatever is going to fix it. I can’t _choose_ to make people less shitty.”

“You’re right,” Merle says, which—yeah, _obviously_ Taako’s right, but that doesn’t mean he expected Merle to agree. It throws him, and Merle must see that, because he looks at Taako and he _smiles_. “The world is rough and you’ve seen more of that than most kids at this school ever will. You’ve experienced the worst it can throw at you and you’re right—you don’t have any control over the way other people act, but kid, you _are_ in control of how _you_ react to them.” Merle spreads his hands, palms open and upturned, like he’s making Taako an offer. “You can choose joy, Taako.

“You choose how you respond to the world’s shittiness. You choose what you put out into it. You can choose to be hard and brittle and sharp. You can choose to lash out at your friends, to push people away, to put up walls to keep them out. You can choose to shut yourself off so no one can hurt you. You _can_ choose that, or you can choose defiance. You can choose to take all the pain and suffering the world throws at you, all that hurt people want to spread around, and fling it back in their faces. You can choose to stand firm. Choose to be where the pain stops. Choose not to pass on your hurt to the people around you. Choose to look after them instead. Choose to be kind when it matters.

“You’re stubborn, so when the world deals you pain, tell the world no. Show the people who treat you like shit that you’re better than they are. Show them you’re going to stand up for the little kid getting picked on, that you’ll teach him how to be strong. Show other people how petty bullying is. Twist it into something small and funny instead of something that causes fear. Not because it’s right or because it’s good, but because you want to spite them. Because you don’t want them to have power over you. Because you don’t want some assholes who hurt you deciding the kind of person you're going to be.

"You can choose to protect yourself from the possibility of getting hurt, Taako, but you can also choose to let people in. Choose to take a shot at happiness. Choose to care. Choose to care about the people and things you decide are worth it. Look after your sister and your friends _because_ you’re selfish, because they’re _yours_. In the face of the hard and messy world, _smile_ and say fuck you.”

Merle leans back in his seat and shrugs. “I’m not saying it’s easy, kid—it’s not. It’s hard. Sometimes, some days, it might even seem impossible, but you’ll never know until you try and you’re too smart to waste your time not trying.”

Merle stops talking and just—looks at Taako. Looks at him like he expects Taako to have a comeback or something to say or just—to respond.

Taako doesn’t know how to. He doesn’t know what to say and his hands are shaking, ever so slightly, in his lap.

Merle watches him for a moment, then gets up and walks around his desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a couple of granola bars. He tosses one to Taako and Taako’s hand comes up automatically, grabbing it before it hits him in the face.

“I got a bunch of these the other day,” Merle says, taking a seat behind his desk. “They’ve got chocolate in them, but I figure they’re pretty healthy.”

Taako glances down at the bar in his hand—dark chocolate and almond. He unwraps it mechanically and raises it to his mouth. He takes a bite, face immediately contorting into a grimace. “This is _terrible_ ,” he says. “Merle, this chocolate tastes like wax. I think there’s one almond in the whole bar. How many of these things did you buy?”

“Oh, a few boxes,” Merle says, grinning at Taako as he bites into his own bar. He doesn’t bother finishing chewing before speaking again. “Figured it wouldn’t be very professional to offer students a fantasy Snickers. Had to find a substitute.”

“This is for _sure_ made entirely of corn syrup,” Taako says, taking another bite anyway. He’s eaten worse things. “Next time give me a Snickers.”

“Sure,” Merle agrees, grinning at Taako. “You feeling good, kid? Our half hour’s up if you want to leave and do your homework.”

Taako very much does want to leave. He’s not sure about homework, doesn’t really feel like he’s in the right headspace for it, but doing something _not here_ sounds great. “Yeah.” He finishes off the granola bar and grabs his bag as he gets to his feet. “I guess I’ll see you next time.”

Merle nods and stands too, walking back to the window and his plants. “Before you go, let me give you one last piece of homework. Something to think about over the weekend.”

Taako gives Merle an unimpressed look, but Merle ignores it. 

“You don’t have to write anything down. Don’t even have to tell me if you bothered thinking about it, but let me say this: you get to choose what defines you, Taako. Anger, joy, hope—whatever. That’s all you. You know what the first thing that comes to mind when I think of you is?”

“I don’t know,” Taako says, tone dry as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You’ve given me so many good options today, Merle. Stubbornness, spitefulness, selfishness—my ability to cause other people frustration?”

“Nah. Those are all there, sure, but they’re secondary.” Merle picks up his watering can, turns his back to Taako. “The first thing that comes to my mind when I think of you is your ingenuity. You’re creative, kid. Sometimes you might not put that mind of yours to the best use—like when you fill a girl’s pockets with pudding—but it’s impressive. Take some time. Think about it. Who do you want to be?”

Taako wants to know how Merle knows about the pudding, but he doesn’t seem to be getting in trouble for the prank and Merle’s offering him a way out of this conversation. Taako’s not going to stick around to overthink things now—he’s out.

“Have a good weekend, Merle,” he says. “Next time, Snickers.”

Merle raises his prosthetic arm in acknowledgement, laughing at the command. “Sure. Next time, Snickers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we're on chapter nine already. I hope everyone has a good New Years and, uh, I guess _see you next year_ for chapter 10??
> 
> If you're at all interested in the linguistic elements of Elvish that have featured heavily in this fic, [I wrote a post about it over on my tumblr you can check out!](http://marywhal.tumblr.com/post/168985708314/bury-the-lead-elvish-notes) Also, I'm just _way_ faster at replying on tumblr right now, so please do come over and say hi.


	10. Fourth Estate

_ Fourth Estate: Traditional term for “the press” which originated in the 18th century English parliament  _

*

Merle’s words stick with Taako. They stick with him, and Taako throws himself into his homework to avoid thinking about the way they made him feel. He puts more effort into his composition for Elvish than anything else he’s ever written. It’s a beautifully crafted, painstakingly detailed description of The Davy Lamp that Taako writes entirely from memory because Taako pointedly, explicitly does not go back for a refresher.

He keeps hearing Merle in his head, saying he can protect himself from being hurt or choose to take a chance on happiness. He keeps thinking about Kravitz walking him back to school and waiting for Taako to make the first move. Keeps thinking about choosing _not_ to kiss him and what that means.

He keeps thinking about how that _fucking_ _tiefling_ probably thinks Taako’s armchair is hers now.

Instead of going to The Davy Lamp like he usually would during Lup’s field hockey practice, Saturday morning finds Taako headed to the library with Angus. It’s weird. He always assumed no one _used_ the school library, but apparently he just wasn’t spending enough time with nerds because there are actually a few other people around, studying. Angus leads Taako to a free table in an isolated section of the library and lays out a mountain of notes and textbooks. 

He’s been smiling at Taako like having Taako for a study buddy is the best thing to ever happen to him since Taako volunteered himself as tribute. Taako really needs to make sure this kid gets out more. Not that he _cares_ , but if Angus is going to trail him like a kid brother then he should probably make sure Ango doesn’t completely destroy his reputation.

“I’ve been reading some magic handbooks,” Angus says, keeping his voice low as Taako settles in across from him. “I was… do you think you’ll ever give me another magic lesson? It would be… really nice to learn more from you, sir.”

Taako’s got a paper to write about the conductive properties of natural versus transmuted gold for transmutation, but he could honestly give a fuck about it. Every draft he’s tried to start has dissolved into doodling. Merle and his little monologue are going to be responsible for his grades slipping and Lup overtaking him in the class standings.

“I mean, no promises,” Taako says, after very briefly contemplating opening his textbook and doing his actual work. “What’ve you been reading up on, boychik?”

“The properties of Mage Hand,” Angus says, eyes lighting up as he pushes one of his many books across the table to Taako. “It seems like a useful spell to know. I got myself a wand and I’ve been practicing Prestidigitation in my room. I think I’m really getting the hang of it, so I wondered if… maybe you’d teach me this one too?”

Mage Hand _is_ a good cantrip to know and for a short kid like Angus it’d be good for reaching books on high shelves or whatever. “I don’t know. Let’s see some of that Prestidigitation at work first.” Taako raises a hand, wiggling his fingers as he casts the spell and lets sparks fly out of his fingertips. “I’ll be the judge of how well you’re doing.”

Angus glances around the library like he’s looking for spies, but their table is far enough away from everyone else that Taako feels comfortable breaking the school’s “no unsupervised magic” rule. He feels comfortable breaking it most of the time anyway, but still.

“You’re fine, Ango,” he says. “Come on, let’s see it.”

Angus reaches into his satchel and pulls out a small wand. It’s on a lanyard because _of course_ it’s on a lanyard. It’s the nerdist thing Taako’s ever seen.

“I feel like you’re supposed to wear that thing if you’re really going to do that to your wand,” Taako says, eying said lanyard.

“I’m not supposed to _have_ a wand,” Angus points out. “I didn’t want to get in trouble for wearing it in the hallways.”

Angus squares his shoulders, adjusts his grasp on his wand into a textbook perfect grip, and points it at a sheet of blank notebook paper.

The paper turns green. Then blue. Then back to white. Angus waves his wand again and a shower of silver sparks emerge from it. He looks up at Taako, pleased and hopeful. “See?”

Taako does see, actually. It’s not like he didn’t _know_ Angus was a quick learner, but still. The kid managed to figure out how to do more with Prestidigitation than just change colours, on his own, in a matter of days. Lup and Taako had figured out all their first cantrips on their own too, of course, but Lup and Taako had had each other and the advantage of being born with wizardly potential in their veins, of absolutely _dripping_ with magical promise, humming away under the surface of their skin, just waiting for them to figure out what they were capable of.

Angus McDonald is just some nerd.

“Well, fuck, pumpkin,” Taako says. “That’s pretty good.”

Angus beams at him in response. “Thank you, sir,” he says. “Do you think… Mage Hand?”

“Yeah, sure.” Taako pushes his textbook aside and reaches into his bag to fish out his own wand. “I mean, it’s not like I have anything better to do right now. I might as well show you how to cast it properly.”

“And _what_ do we have _here_ , hmm?”

The voice from behind him is so unexpected it nearly makes Taako jump. Angus _does_ jump in his chair, even though he should have seen Garfield coming.

Somehow, Taako isn’t surprised Garfield can get the jump on Angus.

“Using magic in _my_ library? I think you’ll find that’s against the rules,” Garfield says, looming over their table and smiling down at them like the cat that ate the canary. “You boys could get yourself into a lot of trouble.”

There’s a reason most people avoid the library.

Taako crosses his arms over his chest and levels an unimpressed look at Garfield. He refuses to be cowed by the school librarian. “You going to go tattle on us to Princi’port?” he asks. “Gotta say, don’t think he’ll be all that surprised.”

“Mm, not by _you_ , maybe, but by our dear Angus McDonald…” Garfield trails off, looking down at Angus with a triumphant glint in his eyes. “You have _three_ overdue books.”

“You won’t let me _renew_ them,” Angus protests. “I need them for a project.”

“We don’t offer renewals,” Garfield says. “There are no loopholes in my library. Once you agree to a loan period, that’s how long you have the books for.”

Taako has never in his life taken a book out of the school library, but that sounds like some bullshit to him. He tilts his head, eying Garfield. “So if the kid returns his books you’ll forget about the whole magic thing?”

“I could be convinced,” Garfield says. “If he sweetens the deal by paying his fines.”

“How much do you owe?” Taako asks, glancing at Angus, who is actually pouting about this. Taako can’t imagine being that attached to _books_.

Angus looks up at him and hesitates for a moment before speaking. “Um. Twenty-seven gold pieces.”

“Holy _shit_ , Ango.” Either the Neverwinter High library has unreasonably steep fines—entirely possible, Garfield seems like a dick—or Angus McDonald is a secret hoarder of books. “How the fuck?”

“You’re not allowed to take a book out twice in a row,” Angus says. “And I’m the _only_ person who wants to take some of these books out, so once I return them I can’t get them back again.”

“That’s—seriously?” Taako turns to Garfield, frowning. “That makes no fucking sense.”

“Rules are rules,” Garfield sing-songs, grinning down at them. “So? Do we have a _deal_?”

Taako taps his fingers against the table, thinking the policy through. It’s not fair and it doesn’t make any sense. Garfield is a crook. He looks at Angus for a moment. Angus, who has enough family money that he won’t miss twenty-seven gold. Taako gestures to Garfield. “Got no choice here if you don’t want a black spot on your record, Ango. You better pay up and return your books.”

Angus reluctantly extracts three thick books from his pile and sets them down in front of Garfield. “Here,” he says. “You have my permission to charge the fees to my account.”

“Del _icious_ ,” Garfield says. “A pleasure doing business with you, Angus. I’m glad we could finally settle the issue of your overdues and your fines.”

Garfield turns to go and Taako clears his throat. “Not so fast there, thug,” he says, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet. “I need to take out some books.”

Garfield hesitates, looking back at Taako. “You don’t take out books.”

“First time for everything, right? Call it Angus being a good influence.” He reaches over, plucking the books from Garfield’s grasp. “I want these.”

“They’re—I haven’t processed their return yet,” Garfield says.

“That’s cool. I’ll walk with you,” Taako says. “Agnes, come.”

Taako leads the way to the circulation desk, Garfield and Angus trailing him through the library. Garfield steps behind the desk, frowning as Taako slides the books across the counter. 

Garfield flips them open to the borrowing card baring Angus’s signature, stuck to the inside cover of each book. He pulls out a wand and waves it over each book. As he does, Angus’s name fades and Taako’s appears in its place—his signature, in his own hand.

The library is fucking creepy.

“Here,” Garfield says, closing the books back up and sliding them to Taako. “They’re all yours.”

Taako looks down at the books for a moment, then pushes them back to Garfield. “I’d like to return these,” he says. “And then Ango’s going to take them out again.”

Garfield’s expression is one of downright _misery_ now. He hesitates, like he’s going to protest the gaming of his arbitrary loan system—a system obviously set up to accrue as many fees from kids like Angus as possible—then grimaces and re-processes the books.

“They’re out in Angus’s name again,” he says, voice thick with resentment. He doesn’t even bother closing the books this time, just glares at Taako.

Taako offers Garfield a lazy smile in return, reaching out to snap them shut. “Pleasure doing business with you,” he says, picking the books up. “Better tighten up those loopholes.”

Taako hands the books off to Angus, turning away from the circulation desk. “Here you go, bubelah. Never say I don’t do anything for you.”

Angus is looking at Taako like Taako hung the fucking moon. “ _Thank you_ , sir! This is… thank you!”

“Don’t mention it.” Taako jerks his head back in the direction of their table. “Let’s get this show back on track. You’ve obviously got a lot to learn from ol’ Taako.”

Taako collects enemies like some people collect stamps. It’s a much more interesting hobby. Maybe Merle would be on him about _choices_ , but some people deserve a taste of their own medicine.

Taako looks down at Angus, thrilled to bits and hugging all three books to his chest like Taako just handed him back his children. Maybe Merle would be cool with this, actually. Maybe he’d say this is Taako choosing to care.

*

Taako manages to kill Saturday with Angus until Lup is off practice and can join them and help keep his mind off The Davy Lamp, but on Sunday morning he wakes up and finds himself _itching_ to go. He still doesn’t want to think about Merle’s words or Merle’s _homework_ , but he does want—coffee. Caffeine. 

And maybe, just a little, to see Kravitz.

It’s raining, which would normally keep Taako inside, but there’s a small, paranoid part of his mind that thinks if he doesn’t force himself to go to the shop now he’ll never go again. It doesn’t make any sense, but he lets the weird anxiety building in the pit of his stomach propel him out into the dreary day and towards the coffee shop.

He doesn’t invite Lup or Angus to come along.

Taako pushes the door to The Davy Lamp open, stealing himself, ready to order Kravitz to make him a Taako special, and then stops short because Kravitz isn’t behind the counter—Ren is, and she’s alone.

Taako hesitates in the doorway, but Ren spots him and waves him over as she reaches for a cup. “What monstrosity are you going to drink today?” she asks. “Kravitz won’t stop talking about some drink you ordered with blackberry and hazelnut syrup. It sounds disgusting.”

“Where _is_ Kravitz?” Taako asks, since he’s got an opening for the question. “Doesn’t he normally… work with you?”

“I mean, sometimes. He took a bunch of extra shifts while I was sick so he’d have time off for midterms at the conservatory. I think he’s studying or practicing or whatever musicians do before tests.” Ren pauses, eyebrows raising. “Taako, did you come here for _him_? I’m insulted.”

“No,” Taako says, instinctively. “Don’t be ridiculous. Taako doesn’t let himself trail after a man, no matter how handsome his face is.”

“Uh-huh.” Ren smirks at him. “That’s why the first thing you did when you walked in here was ask me where he was, right?”

“You brought him up. I mean, he’s usually here,” Taako says.

“I don’t know about that. He’s pretty new still. Doesn’t even have regular shifts yet.” Ren looks far too amused by this. Taako didn’t come here to be judged. He came here for reasons he’s very uncomfortable with which he’s definitely not telling Ren about.

“He’s here _all_ the time,” Taako insists because—because it seems like he is. Because when Taako really needed someone who understood him, Kravitz had been here, working. They hadn’t even known each other that well, but he’d still been able to guess exactly what Taako needed. Because Kravitz is a dork and a nerd who spent high school as a lonely goth band geek, and he’s… nice and he’s funny and fashionable. And also super hot, which doesn’t hurt one bit. “We, you know. Talk.”

Ren’s amusement seems to grow at this and she leans over the counter. “Taako… Are you flirting with someone while they’re _at work_?”

Taako’s whole body tenses up, his ears going flat back against his head, because—shit, that’s—he hadn’t thought of that _at all_ , but that _is_ what he’s been doing, isn’t it? And that’s—he wrote a whole thing about how gross that was and then he did exactly what he said not to do to Kravitz, and—okay, Kravitz definitely didn’t have to hold his hand or almost kiss him or talk to him about fashion or bond with Angus or give him free food if he didn’t like the flirting, but _still_ —what a shitty impression to make. 

What if Kravitz thinks that’s just a thing Taako _does_? Fuck.

“Holy shit, you _really_ like him.” The look Ren gives him sits somewhere between shock and glee. “You can calm down. I was just teasing you. Kravitz is _constantly_ asking me about you and what you’re up to and if you’ll be coming in. It’s annoying as all get out, honestly, but… Taako, you like... _really_ like him.”

“I’ll take a peppermint mocha, thanks,” Taako says, loudly. Maybe he had wanted the blackberry and hazelnut latte before, but he’s not going to order it _now_. “On the house because of whatever’s happening right now.”

Ren laughs. “Sure,” she says. “I literally can’t remember the last time I made you pay for a drink but, yes, on the house because I don’t get to see you flustered very often. Usually you’re doing this to other people.”

“I’m not flustered.” Taako crosses his arms over his chest and then quickly uncrosses them when he realizes it makes him look more defensive. “You need to get your eyes checked, homie.”

Ren’s grin is far too self-satisfied as she stands there, watching him.

“Chop chop.” Taako claps his hands and gestures for Ren to get a move on. “Coffee me. The customer is always right.”

“I don’t think you count as a customer when you never pay for anything, Taako.” Ren lets up on him though, turning towards her syrup collection to get started on his drink. “Got homework you’re finishing up?”

Taako… doesn’t have homework. Taako finished all his homework after the magic lesson with Angus. Even the transmutation essay is done. Taako came here explicitly and exclusively to talk with Kravitz. He doesn’t even have his new batch of letters for the paper yet, so he can’t fill time reading about other people’s problems and making himself feel better because things _could be worse_.

“I’m going to relax. I’m… going to pick up a paper and do a crossword puzzle,” he says, after waiting too long to respond to Ren’s question. He can’t just leave now. He’ll look guilty. He’ll look like what he is—someone who came to The Davy Lamp to talk to the boy he has a crush on.

“Cool,” Ren says, nodding. “What’s a six letter word for not wanting to admit something really, really obvious?”

“I’m going to _go now_ ,” Taako says. “I’ll be back when my drink is ready.”

He turns on his heel and heads to the rack of newspapers by the door, pointedly ignoring Ren laughing behind him.

*

Kravitz lingers in Taako’s mind after he gets back from his unsuccessful foray to The Davy Lamp, which means his brain is full of Kravitz and Merle—a combination Taako isn’t at all happy about. He’s distracted at dinner, misses half of Angus’s retelling of one of his favourite Caleb Cleveland novels—not a big loss, especially since they _all_ seem to be Angus’s favourites. Angus and Magnus don’t notice his attention drifting, but Lup and Barry definitely do. They keep shooting him concerned looks. Taako’s not sure when he and Barry got to a level where Barry could _concerned look_ him like that, or notice when his mind is a million miles away, but here they are.

Taako does his best to ignore both of them, which is pretty easy because, again, all his brain wants to think about is his dwarf counselor and the hot barista at his favourite coffee shop.

Lup nudges his shoulder with hers as they’re all clearing their trays after dinner, her eyebrows raised. “You good, babe? Do we need to have another chat?”

Lup’s asking if Taako’s about to head for the hills and sulk for a day, he knows, and he feels weird and grumpy, sure, but no. He’s not about to disappear on her. He can… choose what he does with his weird mix of emotions. Given that tomorrow’s a Monday so he’s actually has morning classes and that Leon’s apparently gunning for him—not to mention the Hammerheads with their weird vendetta against The Starblaster for his first column—Taako’s not planning on running anywhere. 

“I’m good,” he says. He glances at Angus, Magnus, and Barry, waiting on them by the cafeteria doors. “You want to blow this joint anyway?”

Lup cocks her head. “You miss your sister?” she asks, smirking.

“Something like that.” Taako jerks his thumb at the boys. “Let’s disappoint the chucklefucks.”

“Our _friends_ the chucklefucks.”

Taako rolls his eyes, but yeah, okay. “Yes, fine,” he says. “Our friends the chucklefucks.”

Lup is stunned into silence, staring open-mouthed at Taako. He grins and leaves her to stare as he walks over to the door and their waiting friends. “Lup and I are having twin time,” he says. “You’re on your own tonight.”

“Okay,” Barry says, easy as anything. “Have a good night. I’ll, um, see you in class tomorrow, Lup.”

“Night, sir. Miss Lup,” Angus says, turning to follow Barry out.

“Yeah, night guys,” Magnus says, waving as he heads off with them.

Lup shoves Taako’s shoulder from behind. Hard. “Did you just _admit_ they’re your friends too?”

“I mean, I’m a smart dude,” Taako says, rubbing his shoulder. “I’d be hard not to know we’re friends.”

“I can’t _believe_ you’re going to stand there and pretend that it hasn’t been like pulling _teeth_ trying to get you to admit that they’re your friends.” Taako raises an eyebrow and Lup rolls her eyes. “Okay, yes. I can believe it, but _come on_ , Taako.”

__

“I’m here,” Taako says. “I caught on eventually. Let’s not talk about it.” He grabs Lup’s arm with his, mostly to restrain her. “I have a better idea for a thing we can talk about. A thing we _haven’t_ talked about even though I know that you know I know about it already.”

__

Lup tugs on her arm, ears suddenly at high alert as he tightens his hold on her. “This was a _trap_. Taako, you dick.”

__

Taako doesn’t want to think about Kravitz, so he’s got a better idea—he’s going to make Lup talk about Barry.

__

“I’m your _brother_. Don’t you want to tell me everything? Don’t you want me to care about your _love life_ , Lup?”

__

“You’re a monster and a demon from hell. That’s what you are,” Lup says. “I’ll light your hair on fire. You have lots. You can afford to lose a few inches.”

__

“This bottle blond mop on top of my head is dry as dust and would go up like a torch and you know it,” Taako says. “Come on. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way involves the chocolate stash in my room.”

__

Lup glares at him, but it’s mostly for show. “ _Fine_ ,” she says. “But you better have the good stuff because if your definition of chocolate is a bag of chocolate chips under your bed, I’m out.”

__

Taako _does_ , in fact, have a half-eaten bag of chocolate chips under his bed, but he also has a fantasy Twix somewhere in his bedside table, so they’re good. “It’s not chocolate chips, I promise.”

__

Lup gives him a skeptical look, but stops resisting and comes along quietly. The rain from earlier is still going strong, so they rush across the quad and into the boy’s building, heading up to Taako’s room.

__

As soon as they’re inside, Taako starts digging around the bedside table for the Twix. Lup shrugs off her jacket and takes a seat on the foot of his bed. 

__

“I swear your room gets worse every time I’m in it,” she says, looking over his mess. “You know you’ve got, like, half a bag of chips on your floor?”

__

“There are a lot of things on my floor,” Taako says, and makes a triumphant sound as he locates the Twix. He tosses it to Lup and sits on the bed too, crossing his legs and giving her an expectant look. “So. You like Barold.”

__

“You’re really going to make me do this?” Lup opens the chocolate bar and hands Taako half of it. “Yes, okay? I like him. He’s… a nerd. He’s a big nerd and I think he legitimately thinks ketchup is kind of spicy, but he’s like… _really_ smart? And he’s also nice. He’s never talked down to me or assumed I didn’t know just as much as him about anything. And he’s… cute, right? With the glasses and everything?” Lup bites into her chocolate bar, her gaze going soft and unfocused as she discusses Barry J. Bluejeans and the massive, massive crush she has on him. “The way his hair’s always a mess and he sometimes gets the nosepiece of his glasses caught in it. Fucking adorable. I had to free him once and he got all sheepish and cute about it. And he’s so bad at taking a compliment, Taako. This super smart, super good guy who should know how great he is, and he just goes red like a tomato the minute you tell him he’s looking good. I mean, that’s just _wrong_. God. I just want him to take me in his arms and hold me against his big, soft bod so I can show him how hot I think he is up close and personal.” She sighs. “He’s got a _great_ butt. Those jeans, babe.”

__

Taako wrinkles his nose. Lup has it _bad_. “I didn’t realize you were like— _gone_ for this dude.”

__

“I’m not _gone_ for him.”

__

“You kind of are?” Taako points his Twix at her. “You just talked to me about his butt.”

__

“It’s a good butt!” Lup makes a cupping motion with her hands, squeezes her fingers in like she’s grabbing it. “It’s like—it’s really nice.”

__

“If you say so.” Taako takes a bite off the end of his chocolate bar. “So when are you going to ask Good Butt Barold out on a date?”

__

Lup gives Taako an unimpressed look. “I can’t ask him out on a _date_ , Taako. We only just started hanging out. Just because I like him doesn’t mean he likes me.”

__

“Please.” Lup must be blind not to have picked up on Barry’s crush. “He’d be stupid not to like you. You’re way out of his league.”

__

Lup rolls her eyes. “That’s not a _thing_ , Taako. There’s no such thing as _leagues_. Yeah, I like him, but we don’t even know each other that well yet. Maybe in a little while. We’ve got time.”

__

“Sure, you have time, but why wait? You like him. He’s around. Just _ask him out_. Go get pizza together and make fun of him for ordering pepperoni and pineapple.”

__

“Why are you suddenly so invested in my relationship status?” Lup asks. “You haven’t been before.”

__

“Maybe I just want you to be happy. Besides, you don’t _get_ crushes,” Taako says. “Not often. I mean, the fact that you’ve got one on Barry J. Bluejeans is weird as fuck, but he’s cool. You’re right. So do something about it.”

__

Lup makes a doubtful sound. “It could ruin our friendship.”

__

Taako’s going to scream. What is _wrong_ with everyone in his life? All he wants is to not think about the hot boy he’s got a crush on and to make his sister happy. Is that so much to ask?

__

“You’ve got a choice here, Lulu,” he says. Merle won’t leave him alone, even when Taako hasn’t seen him in days. “You can choose to ignore it and stew in liking Barry while Barry goes on oblivious to the fact that you do, maybe watch him date someone else and suffer— _or_ you can make a move. Open yourself up to the possibility of happiness. Why play it safe? That’s not usually your M.O.”

__

Lup kicks him, gently. “This advice column has really gone to your head, huh?”

__

Taako shrugs. “I’m a professional now.”

__

“We need a disclaimer for your column,” Lup says, snorting. “So everyone knows you’re _not_.” She finishes off her Twix and wipes her chocolatey fingers off on his bedspread. “Thanks though. I’ll think about it. It… maybe you’re right. Maybe it could be good. Maybe _maybe_ being good is good enough. Nothing ever changes if you don’t try, right?”

__

“Yeah,” Taako says. “Right.”

__

*

__

It keeps raining. It’s the time of year when Neverwinter decides it’ll earn its name by giving them cold and _wet_ instead of snowing, like that’s so much better. Taako spends AP Elvish with damp feet from the walk between the dorms and the classrooms, his hair frizzy despite being braided. It’s a miserable day and Taako’s back to thinking maybe he should never see Kravitz again, and also that maybe he should forget everything Merle said to him because not thinking about it sounds like a better way to spend his life than dwelling on his mixed up, messy feelings and what he wants to _define_ him as a person.

__

Taako doesn’t do introspection. Introspection sucks. Once he starts, he’s too smart not to pick up on the patterns in his own behaviour and _seriously_ —this isn’t what he’d choose to spend his time thinking about if he could get his brain to stop.

__

They hand in their compositions and their translations. Jenkins looks, as he always does, resentful of Taako’s blatant lack of respect for him as a teacher and simultaneous success in his class, glaring as Taako passes over his homework. Taako doesn’t back down in the face of Jenkins’s glare. It’s like he told Angus—Jenkins is kind of a shitty teacher. Taako’s not going to let himself me intimidated.

__

Angus waits for him after class, hovering beside his desk as Taako packs up, even though their next classes are on opposite sides of the school.

__

“You’re going to be late for literature,” Taako tells Angus. “You should get going.”

__

“It’s okay. I’m doing really well,” Angus says, smiling at Taako. “And I never see you at breakfast. Good morning, sir.”

__

“Morning, Ango.” Taako shoulders his tote and leads the way out of the classroom, pausing just outside it because maybe it was a _good_ thing Angus didn’t leave without him.

__

The Hammerheads are there, waiting.

__

“Well, well, well,” Maarvey says, smirking and pushing himself off the wall opposite the Elvish room. He moves closer to Taako, flanked by the Jerrys. “Look who we have here. If it isn’t Taako and his little shadow.”

__

“You really going to pretend this is a surprise, thug?” Taako asks, hand on his hip. “You were waiting for us. At least own up to your stalking.”

__

“You’re not important enough for us to stalk you,” Jerree says, scoffing.

__

“Yeah, we’re not stalking,” says Little Jerry.

__

“Uh-huh.” Taako’s not going to waste time on this. He and Angus both have classes to get to and apparently he’s walking the kid to literature again. “We’ve got places to be so peace out, homies. Come on, Agnes.” He turns away from the Hammerheads and sees Jenkins, standing in the doorway of the classroom, watching them.

__

Taako, distracted by Jenkins _seeing this shit_ and not _doing something_ about it, isn’t paying enough attention to stop Little Jerry from shoving Angus as they walk away.

__

Angus falls forward and hits the floor hard, letting out a pained yelp as his hands skid over the hardwood.

__

Taako whirls to face the Hammerheads again, yanking his wand out of his bag and pointing it right in Little Jerry’s face. “What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?”

__

He glances back at Jenkins, who _had_ to see Angus get pushed, who _had_ to have watched Little Jerry do it, just in time to see the door to his classroom shut.

__

It _enrages_ him. Makes him even angrier than Angus getting hurt just because Taako’s been giving the Hammerheads grief. Jenkins is supposed to be a responsible adult. He’s supposed to be taking care of his students. Angus doesn’t deserve any of this. Angus is a _fucking little kid_.

__

But sure. The teachers know Davenport doesn’t stand with bullying in his school. Sure, they enforce that rule.

__

Taako’s about to lash out with—something. Something hard and vicious, a curse that’ll have more of an impact than Barry making them yartz or Magnus giving them a black eye—something to do some _damage_ —when Angus grabs his free hand.

__

“Sir,” Angus says, voice low and urgent. “Sir, I’m okay. It’s okay.” He tugs on Taako’s arm. “Let’s go. Please. I don’t want to be late for class.”

__

Taako looks down at Angus, who does _not_ look like he’s okay, who looks worried and teary and upset, and has to bite back a snarky comment about Angus’s distress because he is _not_ going to be an asshole and pick on the kid right now. He has some self-control.

__

He looks back up at the Hammerheads, pocketing his wand. “If I hear you’ve laid a hand on Angus again, you’re going to regret it. Come on. Let’s get you to class.”

__

Taako turns on his heel, stalking down the hallway. Angus has to walk extra fast to keep up with him, but the more space they put between themselves and the Hammerheads, the better.

__

“Fucking Jenkins,” Taako snarls, once they’re out of earshot. “He _saw_ what was happening.”

__

“I know,” Angus says. “Sir, can we—my hands.”

__

Taako stops walking and looks at Angus again, properly. He’s shaking and when Taako _looks_ at his hands he sees that he’s skinned the heels of both his palms. He looks painful. “Fuck, pumpkin. Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

__

“I didn’t want you to hurt the Hammerheads,” Angus says. “Mr. Jenkins would have gotten you in trouble. You _know_ he would have. And you’re—you’ve been in trouble a lot.”

__

“Ango, you don’t have to look after me,” Taako says, frowning down at him. “They’d deserve anything I did to them. It would be worth the consequences.”

__

“No,” Angus says, shaking his head. “You can stand up for me with the Hammerheads and Garfield and—whoever else you feel like you need to, but I’m not going to let you get expelled for me. I’ll stop that from happening. I can look after you too.” He lifts his chin, giving Taako a determined look. “That’s what friends _do_ , sir. They look out for each other. Caleb Cleveland taught me that.”

__

Taako looks down at this ridiculous child who, for some truly _unfathomable_ reason, thinks of Taako as his friend, and sighs. “Come on,” he says, changing directions. “Let’s take you to the nurse and get your hands healed. Then we can both get notes excusing us for being late to class.”

__

“Do you promise me you’re not going to go after the Hammerheads later?” Angus asks, frowning up at Taako. “You won’t seek out revenge on my behalf?”

__

“Who do you think you’re talking to right now, kid?” Taako asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not Magnus. I have some self-control.”

__

Angus gives him an unimpressed look. “I didn’t hear a promise in there.”

__

Taako has to hand it to Angus, he’s got a mind like a steel trap, even when he’s hurt. “Yeah, okay. I promise not to go off on a revenge mission against the Hammerheads just because they pushed you around.”

__

Angus studies his face for a moment, then nods. “Okay,” he says, and then brightens up as he takes Taako’s hand in his and starts off down the hallway again. “You called me _Angus_.”

__

Taako… did, didn’t he? Shit.

__

“No idea what you’re talking about, Agnes,” he says. “Who’s that?”

__

Angus just keeps smiling. “It’s okay,” he says. “I know you don’t want to talk about it. I won’t say a _word_ , I promise.”

__

“There’s nothing to say anything about, kid. I don’t know what you mean.”

__

“Not a word,” Angus agrees, and actually, physically winks at him.

__

Taako’s never getting rid of the kid now. And maybe it’s not something he’d admit to out loud, but actually that doesn’t seem so bad.

__

*

__

The newspaper’s office is flooded with letters for Taako’s next column. Taako knows this because when he walks into the next meeting, Barry grabs a box and slides it over to his usual place at the table. It’s stuffed full to the point of overflowing—there are at _least_ fifty letters in the box. Fifty new questions waiting for his answer, plus there are still the leftover questions he has sitting somewhere in his room.

__

“Holy shit,” he says, unable to keep himself from grinning. It’s basically like getting fan mail, even if no one knows he’s the one writing the column. “People have lost their damn minds.”

__

Lucretia hums like maybe she agrees with that statement.

__

“We’re going to stick to two or three letters,” she says. “I didn’t read through everything, but I’m sure there are a lot more joke letters this time around. The haunted item thing really took off.”

__

Taako is a fucking genius. It’s too bad his _name_ isn’t on any of his work. “Yeah, wouldn’t want anyone to have fun reading The Starblaster.”

__

Lucretia gives him a _look_ the same moment Lup kicks him under the table. “If people really want to see their work in print, they should think about joining us,” Lucretia says. “We’re trying to save the paper. Part of that is increasing our profile and raising circulation, certainly. We’ve done that. Another part is proving to the Board and to Principal Davenport that there’s enough students interested in writing for the paper to keep it going.”

__

“I don’t see how my column deters people from signing up,” Taako says. “It’s fun. People like it. I can’t say I’m a _joiner_ , but don’t people usually join clubs to have fun?”

__

Lup nudges him again and yes, okay, maybe he shouldn’t be trying to start an argument before the meeting has even started. “Lucretia, babe—assignments for the rest of us this week?” Lup says, looking at Lucretia in a way that’s a little too “excuse my brother he does this” for Taako’s liking.

__

Lucretia pulls her attention off Taako and shoots Lup a grateful smile. Like the two of them have this big friendship Taako’s not in on. When does Lup have _time_ to be friends with Lucretia, with everyone else she already knows? It shouldn’t be possible.

__

“Magnus is going to do a story on the team he’s coaching, as previously discussed,” Lucretia says, bestowing a smile on Magnus too.

__

Magnus beams back at her.

__

“Angus is on his usual beats and he’s also been investigating budgeting for the cafeteria, so we’ll be publishing the first of those stories this week.”

__

Angus glances over at Taako. “You were the one who gave me that idea, sir. When you pointed out that the quality of the food they serve doesn’t always match up with what a meal plan costs. I’ve only got my preliminary investigation done, but I think it’s an avenue worth exploring in more depth. Do you think you could help look over my notes?”

__

Taako bitches about the food a lot, yeah, but it hadn’t ever occurred to him that there was something _fishy_ about how mediocre their meals are. It had always seemed like a fact of life at Neverwinter High—they got shitty meals.

__

Maybe Angus is onto something.

__

“Sure thing, pumpkin,” Taako says. “Have your people call my people and we’ll figure something out.”

__

“Barry’s going to do his normal interview with a staff member. Lup suggested we might want to start doing more human interest pieces, so she’s going to profile a club in addition to her usual sports beat if she’s still up for it. Lup?”

__

“I’m good,” Lup says, grinning. “Barry’s going to tell me all about the Necromancy Club.”

__

“Wait, we have a Necromancy Club?” Magnus asks, while Taako’s still processing this information because _what the fuck_? “Barry, you’re _in_ the Necromancy Club?”

__

Barry reaches up to adjust his glasses. “I’m, um, president, actually.”

__

Barold J. Bluejeans’s hidden depths apparently run _real_ fucking deep.

__

“What do you even _do_ in Necromancy Club?” Taako asks, trying to picture it. He wonders if Kravitz would be into Necromancy Club. It sounds goth. Although maybe the Raven Queen doesn’t like necromancy? Taako’s not very good with gods and what they’re about. There are a lot of them and they’re hard to keep straight. “I mean, besides disappoint your parents.”

__

Lup snorts and hits his arm. “Stop teasing Barry. If you want to know, you’ll have to read my article. It’s a good club to pick, right? Everyone will want to find out more.”

__

“I’m also going to write about the changes Neverwinter High is seeing in student diversity,” Barry says, loudly, like maybe he can make them all forget that he’s _president of the Necromancy Club_ if he’s boring enough. “My family is… well, I’m a legacy student, but the school is getting more diverse and I think that’s made us better. It’s important for people to read about how much we’ve grown and how far we still have to go.”

__

It sounds sappy and gross to Taako, but Lucretia nods. “I think it’s going to be a great piece, Barry. I’m looking forward to it. I’ll be writing the filler articles, as usual. There are repairs coming to the girl’s dorms that people will want to know about. The AP Dwarvish class is going to be putting on a play they translated into Dwarvish next month. The annual ski trip to Rockport and The Teeth is gearing up, so I’ll put together something on that.”

__

Sometimes Taako forgets the rest of the students at Neverwinter High aren’t normal people, and then things like _legacy families_ and _annual ski trips_ get brought up. He rolls his eyes and makes a conscious choice to tune out the rest of the meeting. He needs to hear about luxury ski vacations to a mountain range called _The Teeth_ like he needs a hole in his head. It sounds like the setup to a murder mystery.

__

He’s broken out of his reverie by Lup nudging him in the ribs as everyone else packs up.

__

“Faerun to Taako,” she says. “You good? I’m starving. Let’s hit the cafeteria early.”

__

“Yeah, fine,” Taako agrees, pushing himself up from the table and grabbing his tote bag. “Sorry, zoned out.”

__

Lup’s eyes flick towards Lucretia and Taako glances her way too. It’s obvious she heard him. Her lips are pressed tight together and she’s looking down at the open book in front of her with a focus that means she’s not actually reading the words on the page.

__

There’s a small part of Taako that feels bad. He’s really not doing this on purpose. It only seems like he is.

__

Being anywhere _but_ here sounds good. Taako definitely fucked up again and Lup’s probably going to give him shit for it—again—but at least if they leave she won’t be giving him shit in front of a Lucretia whose feelings he obviously just hurt.

__

Again.

__

He nods towards the door. “Sure, let’s go. Early dinner sounds good to me.”

__

They’re halfway to the cafeteria when Taako realizes he left his box of letters behind and stops walking.

__

“Taako?” Lup looks back at him, eyebrows raised.

__

“I forgot my letters,” Taako says. He pulls a face, debating just—continuing on, but if he puts off picking them up _now_ , he’ll probably just keep conveniently forgetting them. “I have to go grab them. I’ll catch up.”

__

“Yeah you will. I brought all my shit with me. I’m not waiting around.”

__

“Dingus.” Taako sticks his tongue out at her.

__

Lup grins and does the same. “Goofus.”

__

Taako walks back to the library. If he’s lucky, Lucretia and Barry are still inside because going to the extra effort to finding someone to unlock he office for him isn’t happening. Garfield is not a fan of Taako’s right now.

__

It doesn’t occur to him that there’s an option worse than arriving to find a locked door until he reaches Starblaster HQ and the only person still there is Lucretia. She’s got her back to Taako and is in the middle of packing up. It’s possible he can do this with very little interaction.

__

His box of letters is where he left it, sitting at his spot, like Lucretia’s trying to send him the most passive-aggressive message possible about remembering his one job at the paper. It’s possible to do this with very little interaction, but that’s not happening.

__

He raps his knuckles against the open door and steps inside. “Sorry, bubelah. Forgot my letters. Wouldn’t want to keep the people waiting.”

__

Lucretia turns to face him and sighs. “I was going to pass them off to Barry or Angus to give to you before I went home.” She pauses, obviously debating with herself, and then sets her things down. “Look, since we’re alone… I know you don’t care about the paper, Taako, but could you at least pretend you do during our meetings? What if someone wants to join and they see you being so... flippant about everything? How are they supposed to feel when they realize someone who’s _on_ the paper, the person who’s writing the column that’s currently our biggest draw, doesn’t think any of this matters? We may be used to your antics, and I know that Magnus and Angus thinks they’re funny, but newcomers won’t see them the same way. I know you don’t believe this, but what we’re doing is important. It _matters_.”

__

“I don’t think you’re giving me enough credit there, Madam Editor. Barry and Lup think I’m fucking hilarious too,” Taako says, leaning against the table as he stares her down. Of _course_ they couldn’t get through this one interaction without Lucretia getting all self-righteous on him.

__

“No, Taako. You need to actually listen instead of blowing me off for once.” She frowns at him. “This paper and what it represents are important. Journalism is important—here at school and out in the world. We have a job to do. We’re supposed to _help_ people, but you obviously don’t care. You don’t think any of this is important. Every year I’ve fought for this paper. Every year I’ve only _just_ managed to keep it going because I’ve been doing it more or less on my own. This is the _first time_ I’ve had a real shot at making something that’s going to last—at _saving_ it, and you’re a big part of that. You’re a _huge_ part of it, Taako, and you can’t—you can’t just treat it like it’s some throw away course credit. You have to try. You might think this is a joke, but it’s not.”

__

Lucretia shakes head head and thrusts a notebook into her backpack, all barely controlled anger. “You know, some people have to work for what they have, Taako.”

__

Taako’s uncomfortable with how true a lot of what Lucretia’s saying is—he _doesn’t_ think the school paper is important. It’s a _school paper_ , not the Neverwinter Tribune or whatever. Nobody reads it except their spoiled rotten classmates.

__

But.

__

_But_ —

__

“You think I haven’t worked for what I’ve got?”

__

Lucretia looks at him with open disdain, a loud and clear message. Taako’s pretty sure it’s the first time she’s let herself be totally honest about how she feels in front of him. “You’re a _boarder_ at Neverwinter High, Taako. You don’t take _anything_ seriously and—”

__

Taako starts laughing because he can’t help it. He starts laughing so hard he has to sit down because what the _fuck_ is happening here?

__

Lucretia cuts herself off and the look on her face, when Taako glances at her again, is so self-righteous and _furious_ that he loses it again. “Shit,” he says, wiping tears from his eyes. “Holy shit, Lucretia. Sure, yeah, I’m a boarder, but only because I’ve got a fucking scholarship.”

__

Lucretia opens her mouth to respond, then stops, closing it again.

__

Taako quirks an eyebrow at her, leaning forward in his seat. “I’m a boarder on a scholarship because Lup and I are orphans. We bounced around from caravan to caravan, cooking for our keep after our aunt died and our shitty relatives decided they didn’t want to take us in. I mean, what are you _talking_ about, Lucretia? Shit, actually let’s talk about entitlement. Let’s talk about how you were happy to have me on your paper when it suited your needs with Davenport, but how you’ve been _actively_ against me being here ever since he gave you the okay to keep the paper going.”

__

“You don’t make it easy, Taako!” Lucretia snaps. “You act like you don’t care about anything. If you do that, then you know what? People are going to believe you! You don’t take any initiative with your work or show any interest in what anyone else is doing and you’ve been open about thinking this is all a waste of your time! You think this paper doesn’t mean anything and that none of us should care just because you don’t and you’re _wrong_!”

__

Taako wants to storm out of the fucking room, but if he does then he’s just proving Lucretia right. He’s proving that he doesn’t care about her stupid paper, and maybe that’s _true_ , but fuck if he’s going to let her know it. Fuck if he’s going to let her think she’s the bigger person just because he wants to remove himself from this situation and this person who keeps thinking the _worst_ of him. And yeah, maybe that’s because she believes him when Taako shows her his worst side, but right now, right here— _fuck that_.

__

Taako can choose how he reacts to things. He can choose to demand understanding, to demand answers, can demand _complexity_ from Lucretia, and he can do it out of spite.

__

“So tell me _why_ I’m wrong,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “You keep saying it matters, but you never say _why_ and I don’t know if you expect me to just trust you on this one or what, but Taako don’t play that way. _Make_ me care about your paper. ”

__

The request throws Lucretia, briefly, but she rallies, a determined expression settling over her face. “Fine,” she says, and grabs a stool of her own, tugging it close so she can sit right in front of Taako. “Neverwinter is governed by the Lord Protector and his council, right?”

__

This is out of left field, but after a moment of hesitation, Taako nods. “Yeah,” he says. “I do know basic politics. I mean, I’ve got the gist. What does this—”

__

Lucretia holds up a hand to stop him and continues on. “Lord Sterling and his family control Neverwinter, and even in places where power isn’t inherited, there’s always someone in charge. Usually that person, that leader, started out life with some advantage, some inherent, inherited power that helped them get there—parents who were in politics or friends with the right people, a rich family, a top-notch education. None of it is necessary, but it sure helps give them a boost. 

__

“Neverwinter High is a microcosm of that. Students like you or I might get the chance to attend, but for us it was never a guarantee. We had to work to get in, and once we got here we had to _prove_ ourselves and we have to _keep_ proving ourselves. We have to do it over and over again because if we give people _half_ a chance to say our acceptance was political—that we’re here not on our merits as pupils, but because it looks good for the school to have us on their roster, that we’re just a publicity stunt—then they’ll take it.

__

“If we don’t do better than everyone else, people will assume we’re not as good as legacy kids. They’ll do it because they can’t see all the everyday hurdles we have to jump over while the legacy kids walk down a smooth road. None of what we deal with—worrying about the food budget, wondering if we have time to work and maintain our GPA, worrying about scholarships being taken away because we slipped up one time—is _real_ for legacy kids and their families. They don’t understand the mental energy it takes. They don’t understand how it drains you. Barry’s one of my best friends and he’s a good guy, but there was never a question of whether or not he’d go here. Of _course_ he would because his mother’s a Hallwinter and her family founded the school.”

__

This is news to Taako. Not that Barry is a legacy kid—he’d said as much earlier—but there’s a difference between your family attending the school for a few generations and being _related to the Hallwinters_.

__

Still.

__

“What does this have to do with the school newspaper?” Taako asks. “I mean, not that I disagree with anything you’re saying. I’m with you so far. I’m just not seeing the connection here.”

__

“I’m getting there,” Lucretia promises. “So we’re surrounded by kids from families that have never experienced anything like what we’ve experienced. They have money and connections and their parents and their parents’ friends make up the Board. People with power tend to acquire more power and tend to _stay_ in power. It’s easier for them. Everything is easier for them, and so Neverwinter High, like the world, becomes an almost self-sustaining system of who is accepted, of who gets to have their voice heard and who doesn’t.

__

“Out in the world, this means that you have this whole… this whole top level of society, this group of people who control _everything_ who’ve never been poor. Never struggled. Never experienced needing to fight for what they have. Never experienced doing everything right and still only just managing to scrape by. Even when someone like us gets to the top, the system is stacked against us. If we speak up too much, we’re punished for it. We lose ground more easily because we’re expected to represent… _everyone_ remotely like us. Every orphan elf or child of a single mother. We’re supposed to be spokespeople and figureheads—expected to be the ideal version of what the majority wants our people to be. We’re expected to be perfect and when we’re not perfect, we’re punished for it. It’s not fair, but it’s true.”

__

Lucretia leans back and gestures around the dingy room, at the ridiculous “To Seek the Truth and Maintain Balance!” banner hanging above the chalkboard and the ugly yellow armchair and the banged up table they’re sitting at. “But _this_ —this is a way to make ourselves visible. To make _everyone_ visible. When we do this right, when we do our research and we keep our ear to the ground and we write well, then we give the people a voice. This is a way to stand outside of a system that’s not fair and raise awareness of the problems within it. This is how we make our voices _heard_ , Taako. This is how we make sure _everyone’s_ voices are heard.

__

“We can make the system pay attention to us. We can demand fair treatment for all. We can spread the truth like wildfire. We can make people listen. We can hold those in power to account. That’s what our job is. That’s why what we do is important. We maintain balance.

__

“And—I know this sounds hyperbolic. I know it doesn’t apply to a school newspaper the same way it does to the Neverwinter Tribune, but we’re still part of the system. We’re training the students at our school to care about the news. We’re showing them that what’s in the papers applies to their daily lives. And if we’re really lucky, we’re doing our part to call attention to injustices in the system here too.” 

__

Lucretia glances at the box of letters on the table in front of them. “You might not realize it, but that’s what you’re doing with your column, Taako. Why do you think people liked the first one so much? It’s not just because you’re funny. It’s because you called out the Hammerheads. You did something other people were afraid to do because you were willing to risk it. And, as your editor, it was my job to make the decision not to paint a target on your back which is why I gave you a pseudonym and why I kept it for the second issue even though I _know_ you don’t like it. Sometimes being in charge means making decisions people don’t like, but I didn’t have time to have a discussion about the potential consequences with you beforehand and—I’m sorry, I guess. For doing that.”

__

Lucretia pulls her eyes away from the box, looking at Taako again. “So… that’s why The Starblaster is important. That’s why you should care.”

__

Taako and Lucretia sit there, staring at each other, as the weight of her words settles onto Taako’s shoulders.

__

It sounds stupid to say that Taako didn’t realize how much Lucretia cared. The first time he met her, she’d been yelling at Davenport about why it was important to keep the paper going. She’d accepted him onto her team even though he couldn’t possibly have made it more obvious how little he gave a shit about her paper. He’s actively antagonized her for weeks now.

__

Lucretia cares a lot. She cares about the paper, about the legacy she’s trying to leave behind, about _people_. Lucretia even cares about him.

__

So it sounds stupid to say he didn’t realize how much she cared, but it’s true. He didn’t get it, and he still doesn’t agree with the way Lucretia chose to _express_ how much she cares—by taking choices away from him—but he gets it now. He knows _why_.

__

Lucretia looks at their rinky-dink school paper—four pages of content, the backsheet basically a write off of sports and Taako’s questionable advice—and she sees the _world_. She sees a student population being trained to think critically, to be informed, to read the news and to care about it because it’s directly related to their lives. Lucretia looks at The Starblaster and she sees accountability and justice. She sees a picture so big Taako feels overwhelmed just contemplating caring about it all.

__

“ _Fuck_ ,” Taako says, with feeling, because that’s a _lot_ for one person to keep inside themselves.

__

Lucretia blinks and it occurs to Taako that they’ve just been sitting in silence, just _looking_ at each other for a good minute, minute in a half now. He sees the moment Lucretia has the same realization because her lips twitch, and then they’re both laughing—hard. 

__

They’re laughing and Lucretia tries to lean against the table, helpless with it, but she misses and falls into Taako, knocking him off balance too. Taako’s stool tips and he lets out a yelp as he pitches backwards, bringing Lucretia down with him as he tumbles to the floor.

__

It’s not a gentle fall. Taako’s whole back slams against the hardwood and his stool whacks him across his calves, but that just makes everything funnier, somehow. He can’t stop laughing about everything—about how awkward and strained things have been, about how they kept misunderstanding each other over and over again.

__

It’s relief that fuels it. The relief of finally airing everything out—the _release_ of finally being able to let go of the animosity they’ve both fought so hard to maintain.

__

Taako pushes himself upright when he manages to _mostly_ calm himself—he’s going to have bruises all over and his sides aching from laughter—and looks at Lucretia beside him, still giggling to herself.

__

“Listen,” he says. “I’m not going to pretend like caring about the greater good is something I give a shit about. That’s not Taako’s brand, you know? But… yeah. I get it. I mean, I’d do anything for my sister and I can abstract from that to caring about… everyone and everything, I guess. That sounds terrible, honestly, but I get where you’re coming from. I can’t promise to care about the paper like you do, because that would be a big fucking lie and I think we both know that. I can’t even promise to care like Barry or Angus or Magnus or Lup, but I can do my bit.”

__

He looks at Lucretia and shrugs. “I can care about my column and I can make sure you’ve got that special Taako brand wisdom to distribute to the masses when they need it.”

__

“What about meetings?” Lucretia asks, sitting up beside him. “Will you at least try to do a better job of paying attention? Magnus and Angus look up to you. They emulate you. Don’t be a bad influence on them.”

__

That is possibly the wildest thing Lucretia’s said to him today and Taako’s still processing the fact that she’s planning on saving the _whole world_ , starting with the school paper, because she just cares that much.

__

“That’s—they do not.”

__

Lucretia raises an eyebrow at him. “Did you or did you not write your first column about Angus being bullied and then start teaching him magic?”

__

“We’ve only had _two_ lessons.”

__

She hums doubtfully. “And Magnus getting into a fight with the Hammerheads defending Angus?”

__

Taako tries to stare Lucretia down, but she’s unrelenting. He glances away, at the stupid banner hanging above the blackboard. “Yeah, okay. I’ll try and control myself.”

__

“Good. And I’ll be better too. I know I haven’t been… at my best with you.” Lucretia smiles and it’s the first genuine smile of hers he’s had directed at him. It makes her look—younger, somehow. Visibly lifts the weight of all that _caring_ off her shoulders. “You deserve better. We’ll both do better from now on, I know it. Thank you, Taako.”

__

“Yeah,” he says. “You too, I guess. Thanks.” Taako grabs rights his stool and uses it to haul himself to his feet. He brushes off his skirt, then holds a hand out to Lucretia, helping her up when she takes it. He’s still not sure they’ll be friends, but they understand each other better now and that’s a big step up. It’s a move in the right direction. This, Taako can do.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year! Lucretia and Taako finally talk! It only took us 10 chapters to get here. Thank you all for sticking with the fic as we ramp up into the finale of it because _holy cow_ it's close, huh?
> 
> I also want to thank hannahlady over on tumblr, who drew three _amazing_ pictures of this fic. Here's [Taako and Kravitz walking back to campus from The Davey Lamp](http://hannahlady.tumblr.com/post/169141828503/a-sketch-of-these-good-good-boys-from-marywhal-s), and here is [the almost kiss in front of the piano and Taako painting Magnus's nails](http://hannahlady.tumblr.com/post/169146670003/anyway-i-kept-thinking-about-this-fic-so-heres). They are gorgeous!
> 
> A big thank you, too, to terezis on tumblr, who drew this, like, 100% spot on in-character picture of [Taako and Lup in uniform](http://terezis.tumblr.com/post/169212236989) (kind of), which includes Taako's leopard print boots, a detail which killed me. These are some twins that are about the hustle you out of your leather jacket _for sure_.
> 
> Please go like and reblog both their art!
> 
> I'm sure I'll write a big thank you at the end of chapter 12, but you have all been so generous with your time, reading and commenting on my fic that I'm overwhelmed by it at times. It means a lot to know you're enjoying my work. If you'd like to, please come say hello on tumblr, where I'm [@marywhal](http://marywhal.tumblr.com)
> 
> Comments and kudos help fuel me through big projects like this one! Please leave them if you enjoyed this chapter ❤


	11. Kicker

_Kicker: The first sentence or two of a story’s lead, set in a larger font than the rest of the copy._

*

Lup has another field hockey game for Taako to stuffer through, and this time he makes sure to stock up on snacks because if the last game was any indication, Magnus, Barry, and Angus are going to eat all of his again. Ren’s actually _off_ work on the weekend for once, but she’s a responsible person who won’t eat him out of house and home, and also she constantly gives him free coffee so he doesn’t mind sharing with her as much. It’s not actively raining anymore, which is a blessing, but it’s _freezing_ out and Taako’s not equipped for the weather. He bundles up as warm as possible, layering up sweater-jacket-scarf, and sets out into the damp, cold day.

When he reaches the field, Magnus is already sitting in the bleachers, wrapped in an enormous coat and looking very cozy up in Taako’s usual back corner. Taako climbs the steps to join him.

“You’re a genius,” Magnus says, when Taako reaches him. “I can’t believe I was sitting down at the front of the stands all those years when I could have been up here.” He picks up a bag from by his feet and holds it out to Taako, smiling. “I bought some chips today, since I keep eating yours.”

Taako blinks at Magnus, then takes the bag from him and peeks inside—he’s got fantasy Doritos and generic sour cream and onion to share with the rest of them. It’s a pretty terrible choice in chip combination, but Magnus tried and honestly _what the fuck_ is with these people? Taako might have complained a bit about sharing at Lup’s last game, but he’d been fully prepared to just… keep sharing his shit with them. He hadn’t asked for this.

Taako looks up at Magnus to say thank you, but Magnus’s attention has turned to the field, where the teams are going through warm up exercises. Taako glances over his shoulder and follows Magnus’s gaze straight to where Julia Waxmen is running a slow warm-up lap, jogging beside Killian.

Taako takes one last, longing look at his cozy corner spot, more sheltered and comfortable than the rest of the bleachers, and sighs. “All right, let’s go,” he says. “We’re not sitting here today, my dude. You’ll never be able to ask Julia out from the nosebleeds.”

“Wait, what?” Magnus says. “I’m not asking her out. _Taako_.”

“You’re never going to go on a date with her if you don’t ask her out,” Taako says. “This is your chance. Come on down.” He turns and makes his way back down the bleachers, sitting in the front row. The lack of back support is going to be hell, but it’s one game. He can go back to sitting in his usual place after this. He tucks his scarf closer to his neck and gets out Magnus’s bag of Doritos, pointedly not looking back to see if Magnus is following him. He’ll be down eventually.

Taako opens the chips and pulls one out of the bag, waving at Angus and Barry when they roll up. “We’re sitting down here today,” he says. “Ignore Magnus. He’s coming.”

“Did you… have a fight?” Barry asks, glancing up at the top corner of the stands and then taking a seat next to Taako.

“No,” Taako says. “I’m teaching him a lesson in getting his shit together. We’re cool.”

“If you say so, bud.”

Angus sits on Taako’s other side and holds up a bag. “Magnus said he was going to bring chips today, so I brought some chocolates,” he says. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Chocolate’s always a good idea.” Taako passes the Doritos off to Barry, wiping his fingers on the side of his leggings and reaching for the bag. Angus has the _good_ stuff too—a couple bags of individually wrapped fantasy Lindtt truffles. “Hell yeah, Ango. You’re killing it. Did you all coordinate snack duty without me?”

“Didn’t really seem fair that we all ate your chips last game,” Barry says, smiling at Taako. “I’m up next game.”

“Were you really going to leave me up there all on my own?” Magnus asks, taking a seat behind Angus. “You even took my snacks.”

“One of us spilled an entire bag of chips last game and it wasn’t me,” Taako says, unwrapping a truffle, his eyes on the field. “You’re going to thank me once we’re—Julia!” He raises a hand as she and Killian approach on their way around the field, waving it vigorously.

Julia pauses and says something to Killian before walking up to the stands. “Hey guys, hey Taako. You want me to grab Lup for you?”

“Nah, I could get her attention if I wanted it,” he says. “We were looking to talk to you.”

Julia raises an eyebrow. “All four of you?”

“Mostly me and Magnus,” Taako says. “You know, to say thank you for being cool about the pudding thing.”

“Oh, yeah! Sure, of course.” Julia grins at Taako and glances up at Magnus. “Carey _hates_ it. The first time it happened it was the funniest thing and now every time it happens _again_ it just gets funnier. It was such a good idea.”

“Well, I—yeah,” Magnus says. “It’s _really_ good. Taako’s the one who came up with the plan. I just asked for his help.”

“Worth almost passing out?” Julia asks, turning back to Taako.

He rolls his eyes. “You’ve seen the outcome. Of fucking _course_ it was worth it. Now.” Taako gestures up at Magnus. “Maggie and I were thinking it would be good to thank you _properly_. Like with a coffee or something. Right, Magnus?”

Magnus looks down at Taako, wide-eyed, then up at Julia. “Y-yeah,” he says. “That’s—you know, if that’s something you’d be interested in.”

“I’m pretty busy though,” Taako says. “I probably can’t come. It’ll just be you and Magnus, alone. Grabbing a coffee, chatting. Maybe going for a walk after. You know.”

Julia stares at Taako for a long moment, then glances at Magnus. When Taako looks back at him too, he’s not quite looking her in the eyes. “So just… you and me out for coffee?” Julia asks, after a moment. “The two of us?”

“Uh,” Magnus says, and then seems to force himself to look at her properly. He’s so tense Taako can feel the anxiety radiating off him from where he’s sitting. “Yeah, I think… that would be nice. If you think that would be nice.”

Julia smiles and shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah,” she says. “I think that sounds nice. We’ll go out for coffee and then for a walk after.”

Magnus grins back at her, relaxing. “Great,” he says. “Yeah, that’s—cool. Maybe this week? Uh, Monday?”

“Sure. Monday sounds good,” Julia agrees. “It’s a date.”

The tension is suddenly _right_ back again as Magnus freezes in place. “Wait, what?”

Julia laughs, turning away from the bleachers. “A date!” she says. “I need to go play field hockey. I’ll talk to you after the game.”

“Like a _date_ -date or a friend date?” Magnus calls out after her. “Julia!”

Julia’s cackling as she makes her way onto the field, where Killian offers her a high-five.

Yeah, Taako likes her.

“Oh my _gods_ , I think it’s a date,” Magnus says, and then he’s nearly knocking Taako off the stands, throwing his arms around him and hugging him tightly. “Taako, _thank you_. You’re the worst, but she said _yes_ , and now we’ve got a _date_.”

“All right, okay! There’s no need for this!” Taako says, trying to wiggle out of Magnus’s grasp. “Hands off the merchandise!”

“What was what, buddy? Hug you more?” Magnus asks, giving Taako a squeeze. “Barry, Ango, get in here!”

Angus laughs with delight beside Taako, throwing his arms around him too. Barry, thank Istus, settles for giving Taako and awkward pat on the shoulder.

“Barry’s my favourite,” Taako declares, loudly. “You two are _dead_ to me!”

“Hey,” Ren says, from somewhere off to his right, hidden behind Magnus’s shoulder, which is currently all Taako can see. “What am I, chopped liver?”

“You’re right,” Taako says. “ _Ren’s_ my favourite because she didn’t just sit there and let this happen. Barold, you’re demoted.”

Magnus laughs and lets Taako go. “Guess that means you’re up here with me, Ango,” he says, and picks Angus up, despite his squawk of protest, setting him down behind Taako on the second row of bleachers.

Ren raises an eyebrow, but takes Angus’s recently vacated seat. “Sorry, guys. Taako didn’t tell me you’d all be here or I would have come more prepared.”

Ren’s bundled up warm and holding two cups from The Davy Lamp, one of which she offers to Taako. “This is for you. Kravitz made you what he called a Taako special and says he’s sorry he can’t come to the game today.”

Taako’s smiling before he can stop himself, reaching out to take the cup from Ren. There’s a heart drawn on the side of the cup which is just—a lot. That’s _definitely_ not from Ren. “Anyone who would voluntarily sit through field hockey is too nice for their own good.”

Ren snorts. “Or has a crush the size of the sun.”

Magnus makes an intrigued noise, leaning closer. “Who’s _Kravitz_?” he asks. “I don’t know him. Does he go here? Barry, do you know Kravitz?”

“I don’t think I know Kravitz,” Barry says.

Taako shoves Magnus back. He can take it. “Kravitz is _none of your business_ ,” he says. “He’s just a friend. Ren’s kidding.”

“A friend who sent you a _special coffee_ ,” Magnus says, grinning.

“Kravitz is a barista at The Davy Lamp with me,” Ren says. “He’s a bard and he’s in his first year at the Neverwinter Conservatory.”

“He likes Caleb Cleveland books,” Angus volunteers. “He’s really nice. He gave us a free cookie and free drinks.”

“Taako never pays for anything,” Ren says. “He just mooches. Kravitz is also very into fashion. He’s from—actually I’m not sure where he’s from. Not Neverwinter, with the accent. Do you know, Taako?”

Taako does know, but right now he just wants to _die_ , and also to figure out how it’s possible Ren doesn’t know the accent is fake yet. What has Kravitz been _doing_?

Angus looks puzzled. “Accent?” he repeats.

“He’s from Waterdeep,” Taako says, before Angus can blow Kravitz’s cover. Not that—it’s a stupid charade to be maintaining anyway, but… Taako did say he’d let Kravitz expose himself on his own terms. And maybe Kravitz is actually holding up his end of the ‘tell Ren in front of Taako’ bargain, come to think of it. Kravitz does seem like the kind of guy who would, even though the accent is really bad and keeping it up seems like a lot of work.

“Huh,” Ren says. “Must have grown up somewhere else and moved there before moving here. Anyway, basically he’s this cute goth barista Taako’s been flirting with.”

“An older man and a musician.” Magnus rests his elbows on his knees, smiling at Ren. “Tell us _everything_.”

On the field, the referee blows their whistle and the teams start lining up for the opening face off.

“Oh look!” Taako says, loudly. “The game is starting and everyone has to be quiet and _immediately_ stop talking or I’ll cast Silence on them!”

It’s not actually a spell Taako’s capable of casting, but his gamble pays off when Magnus settles back in his seat, chuckling softly.

Taako raises his drink to his mouth. It’s the blackberry and hazelnut combination again and Kravitz is getting better at his job—the milk isn’t as bubbly this time. He burrows down in his coat and cups his hands around his drink to warm them. He’s going to have to actually watch the game today, since he’s in the front row, but it’s not so bad. He’s got snacks and a hot drink. Company. Well, friends.

Barry offers Taako the bag of Doritos in his hand and Taako reaches in to snag one just before Magnus leans over him to grab a handful for himself. Angus holds out a truffle to Ren and they’re all distracted by the players on the field, actually watching the game.

Taako brushes his thumb over the heart on the side of his cup.

If Taako listened to his sister and did things like take his stone of farspeech around with him, then he could have attuned his stone to Kravitz’s and they could… talk or something. They could call each other and Taako could ask him what the heart _means_ without having to look at his stupid handsome face. Not that Taako can’t infer the heart’s meaning. Taako _knows_ what the heart _means_. It’s just that there’s a difference between drawing a heart on a cup and sending it off to a field hockey game like a message in a bottle and actually discussing feelings, or whatever, and Taako’s going to have to actually _do that_ if he wants things to change. And he does. He’s pretty sure. He’s _mostly_ sure.

Taako leans closer to Ren. “When is Kravitz working next?” he asks. “Soon?”

Ren glances at him, grinning. “Wednesday,” she says. “Does this mean I can expect you to pay us a visit?”

Wednesday seems both _very_ far away and not nearly far enough in the future, but it’s the best he’s going to do. The smug look on Ren’s face makes Taako refocus his gaze on the field, although he’s not paying any attention to the action. “Yeah, maybe,” he says, which mean… yes. Wednesday. Wednesday he’ll ask Kravitz if he wants to go someplace that’s not a coffee shop. “If you promise to cover the front so I’m not actually… talking to him while he’s working.”

Ren snorts in amusement. “Sure,” she says. “You can retreat to the backroom, but leave the door open. No telling what you two kids will get up to in there otherwise.”

Taako rolls his eyes and bumps their shoulders together. “Gross. Taako is _classy_.”

“Taako is eating Doritos with his latte,” Ren says. “Taako is _not_.”

Taako can’t help laughing at that, pointedly stuffing another Dorito into his mouth and washing it down with coffee. He waits until Ren’s fake gagging calms down to bump their shoulders together again. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, of course,” Ren says, and reaches over him to steal some Doritos from Barry for herself. “I mean, what are friends for?”

*

Taako still hasn't started his replies to the latest round of letters, but the rest of his homework is done and triple checked, so chalk one up for productive procrastination. Lucretia’s speech was definitely _supposed_ to be inspiring, but she maybe leaned in too hard on the whole _mattering_ thing. How is Taako supposed to give people advice? He’s amazing—attractive, intelligent, fashionable, magically gifted, an incredible cook—but fucking _wise_ he is not. This column has been getting harder to write each issue. At this rate, by issue six he’s just going to set the box on fire and go back to making up questions he knows the answer to because _these_ are hard.

The questions people ask, more than anything else, are about relationships—relationships with friends, with family, with their fellow students, and with romantic partners and date mates. How the fuck is Taako supposed to answer those? He can talk a big game, but Taako’s only just admitted to himself he has multiple friends. And he may have an unofficial appointment to tell Kravitz about… the things Taakos thinks about him—his feelings, or whatever—but he’s still not completely sure how to _do_ that because he doesn’t exactly have a lot of experience telling people how he feels. Even just contemplating admitting everything directly feels weird and wrong, although logically he knows everything will be fine. Logically he knows Kravitz likes him too. Taako has absolutely nothing to worry about. Kravitz drew a _heart_ on his _latte_ and walked him home in the cold. Kravitz is a giant dork who liked Caleb Cleveland novels. Kravitz has made himself clear, but wants Taako to decide how things are going to go between them because he’s kind and considerate.

 _Logically_ Taako knows all these things, but knowing it doesn’t translate directly to sorting out his messy feelings.

If Taako can’t figure himself out, how is he supposed to fix other people’s problems? He’s not perfect. He can wave his wand and change someone’s hair colour, but he can’t wave it and stop strangers from misgendering them. He can’t even do that for his sister. Taako’s not sure what to say in response to questions about it either—that he’d like to curse the fuckers doing it to the students writing to him for advice the same way he’ll curse anyone who does it to Lup, provided she doesn’t beat him to it?

Taako groans, letting his head fall forward against the table he’s sharing with Angus and Barry in the student lounge.

“You… okay, bud?” Barry asks, after a brief pause. “Writer’s block?”

“Kill me, Barry.” Taako looks up at Barry and reaches out a pleading hand. “I’ll break into the home ec room and cook you dinner for a month.”

Barry laughs like he thinks Taako’s joking. “Wouldn’t that be hard for you to do?” he asks. “I mean, there’s a lot you can’t do if you’re dead.”

“You’re in on some necromancy shit,” Taako says, shaking his head. “You’ll figure it out. I _believe_ in you.”

“Do you even know how to cook?”

Taako sits straight up, glaring at Barry and feeling deeply, profoundly offended. “ _Excuse_ me? Do I know how to _cook_?”

“Yeah,” Barry says. “I mean, I know you were in home ec for a bit, but you left the class, right? I have no idea how to cook anything. I’m hopeless.”

“Taako and Lup work as cooks every summer. He’s a professional,” Angus says, not looking up from his homework.

That soothes Taako’s sensibilities a little. He gestures to Angus. “See? The kid pays attention to me. How do you expect to win Lup over if you don’t _know_ these things about us?”

Barry flushes, glancing at Angus. “Taako, you can’t— _tell_ everyone.”

Angus does look up from his work then. “Oh, it’s okay, sir,” he says. “I knew already. I’ve seen how flustered you get around Miss Lup.”

“Yeah, the only person more obvious than you is Magnus with Julia,” Taako says. “I solved _his_ problem. You want me to take a crack at yours too?” Hooking up Barold and Lup would be a good distraction from figuring out what to say to Kravitz on Wednesday. And from answering advice which was also definitely important too. As an added bonus, it would make his sister happy.

“ _Please_ don’t,” Barry says, going pale, which is a nice counterpoint to all the blushing Taako usually gets from him. “I don’t think I would survive.”

“You keep _rejecting_ me, Barold. I’m insulted,” Taako says, grinning at Barry. “I did actually help Magnus. You were there. I got him a date with Julia Waxmen. I’m brilliant.”

“Why don’t you give your help the people who wrote asking for it, sir?” Angus says.

Taako pauses, giving Angus a dirty look. “Low blow, pumpkin.”

Angus adjusts his glasses and smiles at Taako. “I recognize procrastination tactics when I see them.”

“Well, well, well… what do we have here?”

Taako lets out a groan of frustration. Sure, he wants distractions from doing the writing he needs to do because of his looming deadline. But _this_ was going to be some bullshit. “Don’t you have something better to do?” he asks, turning to glare at Maarvey and the rest of the Hammerheads. “Haven’t you gotten it through your thick heads that we’re not intimidated by you?”

Maarvey glances at Angus and Barry skeptically. “That’s not what it seemed like when you ran away from us.”

“Yeah,” says Little Jerry. “You—”

“We didn’t _run away_ ,” Taako says, before Little Jerry can finish up his parrot routine. “Seriously? Is that how you always interpret people walking away from your bullshit? No wonder you think so highly of yourselves.”

“What did you just say to us?” Jerree steps up, so he’s looming over Taako. “You might want to think twice about your tone.”

“You might want to get the fuck out of my face,” Taako says, hand creeping towards his bag and his wand.

Barry reaches over and grabs his arm. “We’re in the middle of the student lounge,” he says. “I think everyone should probably just… take a deep breath and think about what they’re doing and where they’re doing it and if it’s a good idea to continue.”

Taako shakes Barry’s hand off, but he has a point. Taako needs to not fuck himself over by playing into the Hammerheads bullshit. They’re doing this on purpose, trying to elicit a reaction from him big enough that the administration will _have_ to do something. “You heard the man,” he says. “Move along boys.”

“I don’t _think_ so,” Maarvey says. “I think—”

_“Taako Taaco!”_

The room goes silent. Almost as one, the six of them—Taako, Barry, Angus, and the Hammerheads—turn to face the open door into the student lounge. _Everyone_ in the lounge turns to face it. Standing there, in sweatpants and a t-shirt, holding a blazer that’s slowly dripping pudding onto the floor, is Carey Fangbattle.

She marches across the room, ignoring the way everyone stares at her. “Pocket. Pudding.” Carey bends down, getting right in Taako’s face. “Was it _you_?”

Taako’s never really had a conversation with Carey before. She’s always seemed friendly. Her brother was well-liked, when he attended the school, and she’s Magnus’s best friend so Taako had assumed she was, you know, _affable_ the way Magnus is.

Right now, she looks a split-second and one wrong answer away from biting his head off.

The Hammerheads back out of the confrontation happening in front of them real quick, like they can sense things about to go south.

Carey brings her blazer up, practically shoving the sodden pocket against Taako’s nose. “You put some kind of transmutation spell on the candies in my pockets, right?” she asks. “I don’t _understand_. There’s no pattern. They just—explode.”

Taako thinks about denying it, but the look in Carey’s eyes says she pretty much knows and is just waiting for confirmation from the source.

“Yeah,” he says, after a beat. “It was me. They’re all set to go off after they’ve been touched a certain number of times. I wanted it to be random so I just… mixed it up.”

“Holy shit,” says Barry, who understands the work that went into this prank because he’s a nerd and into magical theory and arcane science.

Carey leans back, eyes Taako with a stern expression on her face for a long, terrifying moment, and then she cracks a smile and laughs. “ _Pocket pudding_ ,” she says. “I never would have thought of that it’s so _good_. Spaceman told me it wasn’t him who came up with the idea. He wouldn’t reveal the source so I had to just take my best guess and _dang_ , Taako. Up top.” She holds up a hand.

Taako’s heartbeat is slowly returning to its normal rhythm. He reaches out and slaps Carey’s hand. “It’s how we do. The next time you want to get Magnus, come to me. I’m sure I can come up with something _just_ as good for him,” he says, because it sounds fun and also because he _definitely_ wants to be on Carey’s good side. If he has prep time he won’t pass out on her again.

“Oh, I owe him _big_ for this one,” Carey says, grinning wide. “You _bet_ I’m going to take you up on that. We’re going to make him feel the pain.”

Taako grins back at her. He sees why Magnus likes her. Honestly, if this is all it takes then maybe Taako’s getting good at the whole friendship thing. It’s possible he doesn’t have to worry too much about the quality of the advice he’s handing out to his readership on their relationships. If Magnus and Carey are any indication, all you have to do to make a relationship work is find someone who’s the same kind of weird you are.

*

Maybe it’s because _he_ knows things have changed now, but when he and Angus walk into Starblaster HQ for the next meeting, Taako can feel the tension in everyone else. It’s in the lines of their shoulders, the way they glance from him to Lucretia and back again, the way they watch as Taako sets his stack of advice letters down on top of everyone else’s work. Angus even hesitates before putting his articles on top of Taako’s, like maybe he thinks things will be worse if Lucretia has to move his work aside to check on Taako’s.

A week ago, Angus would have been right. A week ago, Taako and Lucretia’s relationship would have warranted the careful way everyone’s looking at them, but he’s pretty sure they’ve got an understanding now—a truce. One Taako hasn’t even told Lup about it because it’s not like they _talk_ about Lucretia, not unless Taako’s been an asshole, and he hasn’t had the opportunity to be one since he and Lucretia talked. Taako’s not big on admitting he made mistakes, not even to Lup, unless she physically drags it out of him. He wasn’t going to bring Lucretia up in casual conversation.

Right now he’s glad Lup doesn’t know about the truce because when he takes his usual seat next to her he can _feel_ her ready to reign him in and—honestly, he whole weird fight with Lucretia is _hilarious_ in retrospect. It was awful and bad when he was in the middle of it—he’s glad it’s over—but _fuck_ , everyone else took it so _seriously_ and he never noticed.

It’s kind of a miracle they get anything done as a paper. It’s kind of a miracle Barry, Magnus, and Angus kept wanting to spend time with him, despite everything. Their whole group might be a little unhinged.

“I’m glad everyone managed to get their assignments done,” Lucretia says, once they’ve all taken their seats. She doesn’t bother flipping through them today. Taako watches Angus and Barry, sat on the opposite side of the table, exchange a confused glance. “We’ve got some logistics that need to be worked out, but otherwise this should be a short meeting. Lup, Barry says you’ve got a handle on all the spellwork for the layout?”

Lup glances at Barry across the table and smiles, then looks at Lucretia. “Yeah, it wasn’t hard,” she says. “Barry’s a good teacher.”

Taako watches as Barry tries to hide his smile, ducking his face as his cheeks turn pink. It’s adorable. The two of them need to get their shit together.

“Good,” Lucretia says. She turns to Taako and there’s a glint in her eyes that says _she’s_ noticed the apprehension in everyone else too. Lucretia’s probably been aware of it from the beginning, actually. If Taako’s honest, he can admit to himself that he was probably the only one not paying attention to the dark cloud his and Lucretia’s rivalry cast over The Starblaster. It’s weird to see it still hanging over the room when, for him, and probably for Lucretia too, it feels like that’s over now.

“Taako, I know you didn’t stay to learn the spells from Barry last time, but do you think you’d be interested in learning them today so you can do some layout work tomorrow? Magnus, we could use your help too. I know you’re not a magic user, but it would be nice to have everyone around for layout day. Angus always comes. Assembling and folding the papers doesn’t need a spell and I don’t think we’ve spent enough time _together_ as a club. We’ll order pizza.”

Tomorrow is Wednesday. Tomorrow is the day Taako’s supposed to go see Kravitz and _talk_ to him. Taako looks at Lucretia, obviously extending an olive branch, obviously _trying_ to make things better. This is another one of Merle’s fucking choices. Taako could go to The Davy Lamp after school tomorrow and ask Kravitz out or he could wait and do the newspaper thing and—fuck.

Lup’s foot is already pressed against Taako’s under the table, poised to nudge him if he gets too salty with Lucretia.

He knows what the right choice is.

“Sure,” Taako says. “But if you’re ordering pizza you _have_ to let me and Barold order pineapple and pepperoni. There’s two of us who eat it now. You can’t say no.”

Lucretia raises a single eyebrow. If Taako’d known she had such a good poker face he might have tried calling a cease fire earlier. “Pineapple and pepperoni is your line in the sand?”

“Look, you want cha’boy to help out, you’ve got to offer him a little something-something,” Taako says, shrugging a shoulder. “To grease the wheels.”

“We will need multiple pizzas to feed all of us,” Lucretia says, casting a glance around the room. “We can do one pepperoni and pineapple. Is that all?”

“Well, obviously someone’s going to have to _teach_ me the spell.”

“Obviously,” Lucretia agrees, nodding.

“You up for it, Madam Editor?” Every other time Taako’s called Lucretia that, it’s been full of disdain, full of an utter lack of respect for Lucretia’s position or her paper. Today it just sounds like any of the many nicknames that come out of his mouth on a daily basis.

“I’d be happy to,” Lucretia says, and turns to Magnus. “Magnus, will you come to the layout meeting tomorrow too? No basketball practice it would interfere with?”

Magnus just stares at Lucretia, slack-jawed, and then glances at Taako. Everyone is staring at him now, even Lup.

The room is silent.

Taako leans towards Lucretia. “I think we broke them,” he says.

Lucretia glances around the table and grins and yeah, okay, Taako likes her a lot more now. “I think you’re right.”

“What the _fuck_?” Lup punches Taako’s arm and he bursts out laughing, raising his arms to defend himself from her slapping at him.

“Ow, ow! Cool it, Lulu—why is your first response always to _hit_ things?”

“What was _that_?” Lup gestures from Taako to Lucretia. “What is _this_?”

“We talked,” Lucretia says. “I’m surprised Taako didn’t tell you.”

“It didn’t come up,” Taako says, shrugging.

“Are you telling me the rest of us have been suffering for _weeks_ and all you two needed to do was have _one_ conversation?” Lup demands, glaring at both of them.

Taako loves his sister for blaming them both. “It was a good conversation.”

“I hate you,” Lup says, with feeling.

Taako laughs and wraps an arm around her, then turns back to Lucretia. “For real though, you don’t have to teach me if you don’t want to. I’m sure Lup could handle it.”

“It’s no trouble,” Lucretia promises. “I’m sure you’ll pick up on it quickly. We can do it after the meeting today if you’ve got the time.” She turns back to Magnus. “ _Are_ you available on Wednesday?”

“I, uh, yeah,” Magnus says, still looking a little shell-shocked. “I can come.”

“Good. We’ll make a night of it,” Lucretia says. “Our first _real_ issue as a team. It’ll be fun.”

Taako’s not sure about _fun_ , and he’s going to be missing an important _thing_ he was planning on doing, but knowing he doesn’t have to talk to Kravitz tomorrow is also… kind of a relief. Plus, Lucretia’s got a sense of humour he never knew about, so maybe it won’t be so bad.

Although to be fair, she’s probably got a whole… everything he doesn’t know about. Lucretia misunderstood him because she took him at face value. Taako hasn’t even paid much attention to Lucretia’s public persona, other than her mousy take on the school uniform. He’d written her off as another person out to get him and stopped caring about learning more. He can admit, now, that maybe that’s kind of a shitty way to go through life—assuming people are against him just because he doesn’t get along with them or they disagree about something.

Fuck, he doesn’t even need Merle anymore. Taako’s got this whole existential crisis about how he acts thing _down_. It kind of sucks.

After talking with Lucretia, after hearing how much she cares about the paper and _why_ she cares about it, even answering questions for his stupid advice column feels like too much responsibility. Taako didn’t sign up for journalism to _be a role model_. He signed up because it seemed like an easy blow off class. Same with the advice column. It was supposed to mean he didn’t have to think about the content he produced, but now here he is, with the weight of the school’s anticipation on his shoulders, and he can’t even count on Lucretia to think he’s a terrible person who’s not putting any effort into his assignment—she knows better. She’s letting herself _expect_ things from him and now Taako going to have to rise to meet those expectations.

It’s not too late for him to disappoint her and Lup and Merle and… everyone, but Taako… maybe doesn’t _want_ to disappoint them. He doesn’t want to become a person he hates—doesn’t want to be like Leon, who lashes out against students in underhanded ways, or Rick, who doesn’t care about his job—Taako wants to be better. He wants to _prove_ that he’s better.

Taako wants to step up.

When the meeting ends, Taako stays seated while everyone else packs up their things. Lup nudges him gently. “You good, babe? You can handle learning the spells from Lucretia? Because I’m pretty sure I could teach you if you want. Or Barry could.”

“I’m good,” Taako says, smirking at her. “Barry could probably give you a _refresher_ course if you need one. You know, really get in there. Get down to the nitty-gritty details of how the spell works. Learn what makes it _tick_ and all that.” He wiggles his eyebrows at her.

Lup flicks his arm in retaliation, glaring. “I can play too, you know. Ren’s told me some _interesting_ things about the new barista at The Davy Lamp. Magnus says he sent you a _special drink_.”

Taako’s smirk is gone almost instantly. “I don’t want to play this game anymore.”

“That’s what I _thought_.” Lup looks at Lucretia, waiting patiently at the front of the room, then grabs her bag. “I’ll see you later. Try to keep… whatever this is up. It’s a nice change. Night Lucretia.”

“Night,” Lucretia says, raising a hand as Lup leaves the room.

Taako turns to Lucretia. This could be weird. It could be awkward. He’s not going to let it me. He grins at her. “Did you see the looks on their _faces_?”

Lucretia laughs. “I _know_ ,” she says. “I wish we hadn’t done everyone at once.”

Taako has more practice at fucking with people than Lucretia. She’s just not seeing the _possibilities_ yet. “Oh no,” he says. “Don’t worry, we’ve still got Merle.”

“I did talk to him about how much you frustrate me the other day.” She pauses. “Frustrat _ed_ me.”

“Don’t give me too much credit. This whole truce thing is new,” Taako says, digging his wand out of his bag. “And yeah, I know. I heard you.”

“You—what?”

Taako looks up from searching for his wand, at Lucretia. She’s frozen in place, wide-eyed. “I had an appointment with Merle,” he says. “I heard you talking when I stopped by. Big ears and all.”

“Taako, I’m sorry,” Lucretia says. “I didn’t mean—”

Taako snorts. “Yeah you did,” he says. “It’s fine. You were a dick. I was a dick. It was a real sausage party, but—whatever, you know? We could go back and forth apologizing for it all day or we could decide _not_ to sit here thinking about the shitty ways we treated each other and just move on instead. Up to you.”

Lucretia looks at him for a moment, puzzled and maybe a little amused and definitely still kind of surprised. “That’s… I think that sounds like the mature thing to do, Taako. Thank you”

“Yeah, well. Like I said, I have appointments with Merle. Every once in a blue moon he has some good advice.” Taako claps his hands together. “Let’s get this show on the road, bubelah. Taako’s got some magic to learn.”

*

When Taako sees Lucretia sitting alone again at lunch the next day, he almost leaves her there. She’s further away from their table this time, tucked in a corner near the tray return, eating an apple and reading a worn paperback. Maybe they’re getting along better, but they’re still not actually friends. They don’t _need_ to be friends; they just have to work together. He’s done a lot—Merle will be real impressed at their next appointment without him pushing it further. Even Angus, beside him, hasn’t noticed Lucretia, and Taako could just let this go and pretend he didn’t see her, but _fuck_. If he’s really going to be a bigger, better person, he’s going to have to suck it up.

Taako stops walking halfway to their table, where Ren, Lup, Barry, and Magnus are already tucking into their lunches. “I’ve got a thing to do,” he tells Angus. “Go sit. I’ll be right there.”

Taako peels away from Angus and walks over to Lucretia. “Come on,” he says, when he reaches her. “I don’t know where you usually eat, but if you’re in the cafeteria you should sit with us.”

Lucretia looks up from her book and frowns at Taako, then glances over at the rest of their group. “Usually I just eat in The Starblaster office,” she says. “Get some work done, but I finished my editing last night. Unless you want to go over the final edits with me?”

Taako very much does not. “Nope,” he says. “No excuses. Come on. You liked fucking with everyone yesterday. Come and sit with us on my invite. That’ll _really_ fuck them up.”

A ghost of a smile flits across Lucretia’s face. “Still?”

“Hell yeah, are you kidding? Being civil at newspaper club is fine, but it’s no sitting together at lunch.” Taako sets his tray down on the table and picks up Lucretia’s juice box and half-finished sandwich to lighten her load. “Look at me, I’m even carrying your things.”

“Are you… eating fries and chocolate milk for lunch?” Lucretia asks, eying his tray.

“Lucretia, our truce is a new and fragile thing.”

Lucretia raises an eyebrow at Taako as she gets to her feet and tucks her book under her arm so she can grab her backpack. “Taako, this will never work if we police each other constantly.”

Lucretia’s got a point. Taako makes a face and then turns and leads her back to the table where everyone is now watching this whole thing unfold. Taako sits beside Ren and moves Lucretia’s lunch off his tray, setting it down in front of the empty space beside him. “Lucretia’s going to sit with us.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Lucretia says, sitting down and glancing around the table before actually putting her book away. “Taako thought it might be nice.”

“Of course we don’t mine, Luce. I didn’t see you or I would have come and got you myself,” Barry says, smiling. “You should eat with us more often.”

“I’m Ren,” Ren says, leaning past Taako to wave hello.

“Lucretia.” Lucretia says, smiling at Ren and then glancing down at her juice box. She’s back to being shy again which is just _ridiculous_. Taako’s been yelled at by Lucretia multiple times. In front of the people they’re currently sitting with, minus Ren. Lucretia has more backbone than most of the teachers in their school and sitting at a lunch table with one person she doesn’t know turns her into a shrinking violet? Life in Lucretia’s head must be wild.

“I’ve heard lots about you,” Ren says. “We’re _definitely_ going to be friends.”

Lup laughs at that, dipping a fry in ketchup. “Yeah, I think you two will get along. Ren knows exactly how to deal with Taako.”

“Hey.” Taako kicks Lup under the table. At least he thinks it’s Lup. It may be Magnus. There’s a lot of people sitting with them now and aiming is harder. It’s a gentle kick so it’s _fine_. “I’m your _only brother_.”

“Yeah, and you’re a menace.”

“Are you _both_ having fries and milk for lunch?” Lucretia asks, eying Lup’s tray which does, indeed, contain nothing but a plate of fries and a carton of strawberry milk.

“Oh my god, I _know_ ,” Ren says, with feeling. “Taako, move. Lucretia’s my new best friend.”

Lucretia looks very confused by Ren’s assertion, but Taako laughs and swaps places with Ren because nothing’s going to make him look like a better person than doing something for someone else without complaining about it even once. He’s a fucking saint.

Taako finds himself next to Angus, who looks up from his tuna noodle casserole and grins. “It was really nice of you to invite Lucretia over,” he says. He’s got a proud, bordering on smug, look on his face—like Taako’s the child here and not him. “I’m glad you spotted her, sir.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t push it, D’jango,” Taako says, rolling his eyes as he opens his milk. “It’s just lunch.”

Because Lucretia apparently feels the need to _prove_ it’s just lunch, she turns towards them, frowning. “Why do you do that?” she asks. “His name is Angus and I know you know that. Why not do him the favour of addressing him by his name?”

Taako opens his mouth to tell Lucretia to _mind her business_ , but Angus stops him, putting a hand on his arm. “It’s just a goof,” he says. “Like a nickname. We’re friends.”

Lucretia doesn’t look so sure about that.

“So Lup,” Barry says, loudly, on the other side of the table. “Have you and Taako started your IPR applications yet?”

Barry probably thinks he’s doing everyone a favour, changing the subject. Taako wishes he’d opted for talking about dead bodies or something. He only has a vague idea of what necromancy actually entails, but death is definitely involved.

“I’ve got a draft of my entrance essay done,” Lup says. “Taako hasn’t started his.”

“Hey,” Taako says. “You don’t _know_ that. We haven’t talked about it.”

Lup gives him a skeptical look. “ _Have_ you started you essay?”

Taako doesn’t really have a good reply for that. He shrugs, looking away. “I’ll get to it.”

“You’re applying to the IPR? That’s cool,” Magnus says. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet. Maybe an apprenticeship program? Julia and I got coffee and her dad’s a carpenter and woodshop is my best class, so I thought… you know. She says she’ll introduce me to him so I can get a better idea of whether I want to do it or not.” Magnus beams at them all, radiating happiness. Taako is a kind and generous soul and he _really_ doesn’t get enough credit for his work.

“You’re welcome,” he says. “I got you a date _and_ an inside scoop on the carpentry job market.”

Magnus laughs. “Thanks,” he says. “Seriously. I owe you one, Taako.”

Taako can’t quite deal with the sincerity in Magnus’s voice. He looks away from him, at Angus. “What about you, pumpkin? What are you doing when you finish?”

“University,” Angus says. “The Academy of Arcane Science, maybe. They do a lot of research and development work that I find interesting, but I’m considering other options as well. I don’t have the arcane background for the IPR, but if I took a year off to study my magicks then I think I would qualify. It would be good to build the practical side of my knowledge as well as the theoretical.”

“Nerd,” Taako says, but with affection.

“You’re a nerd too, Taako,” Ren says, snorting. “You just like to pretend you’re not. I’m going to a hospitality management program. I’m going to own my own restaurant one day. It’s going to be amazing.” She looks at Lucretia. “What about you?”

“I’m applying to a bunch of schools, but the University of Neverwinter has a really good journalism program. It’s my first choice,” Lucretia says. “They do internships with the Neverwinter Tribune. Working there has been my dream since I was a little girl. Taako, I didn’t know you were interested in the Institute.”

Taako’s pretty sure Lucretia means it as an olive branch and not a backhanded compliment, so he does his best to shrug off the prickle of defensiveness he feels, picking up a fry. “Me and Lup are kind of a package deal. Of course I’m going to go. We’ll knock their socks off.”

“Hell yeah we will!” Lup looks thrilled by the idea. Her and Taako against the world, proving themselves—it’s the way things have always been. They’re the one constant in each other’s lives. Taako’s not about to let a little thing like school change that. Home isn’t a place for him—it’s a person. It’s his sister.

And despite what Merle might _imply_ , going to the Institute of Planar Research sounds just fine to him. He’s very good at magic—better than most people his age—and he’s smart. He’ll do great. It’s not his passion, definitely not his lifelong dream the way journalism school is for Lucretia, but that’s fine. He doesn’t _have_ to want it that badly to go through with it.

Really, what Taako wants, more than anything else, is to be out of high school. He wants things to be different than they are now, and the Insititute is the next step in making things different, after Neverwinter High. They’ll go and they’ll do well in their classes and become powerful wizards. They have potential, and they’ll achieve it, and then things will be better. They’ll have rooms that aren’t borrowed, a kitchen of their own—they’ll be important and admired.

It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t really want it. That he’s glad Lup is excited about the idea, but it doesn’t make his eyes light up or his heart rate rise. That’s _fine_. It’s a thing that will lead to a job and the job will lead to money and Taako likes money.

Taako knows what his future looks like. It’s never once occurred to him to alter the plan, not since everything started falling into place—things like getting into Neverwinter High—but now Merle’s in his head and suddenly he’s not so sure he’s on the right track.

“Hey,” Taako says, voice over-loud. He’s _not_ going to sit around and dwell on this. “So this layout thing. Do we show up right after school or what?”

“We usually meet around three-thirty. That way I have time to run home first,” Lucretia says. “Does that work for you?”

“That works,” Taako says. “I don’t suppose you have a draft of the necromancy club article I could take a peek at?”

“Not until it’s _finished_ , Taako,” Lup says, tossing a fry at him. “I want you to have the full experience of reading it in the paper.”

“You want to torture me by not telling me any details, you mean. I bet it’s boring. I bet the club doesn't even resurrect anything.”

Barry looks a little sheepish. “We _try_ not to,” he says. “Sometimes things get… a little out of hand.”

Taako feels like the besotted look this earns from Lup says a lot about her taste in men.

Ren nudges him under the table. “Three-thirty _today_ you’ve got a Starblaster meeting? It’s Wednesday.”

Taako shrugs, looking down at his fries. Three-thirty might be enough time for Lucretia to run home, but it’s not enough time to go to The Davy Lamp, have a heart-to-heart with Kravitz, and then make it back in time for the meeting. “I know,” he says. “This paper thing came up yesterday. I haven’t done layout before.”

Ren looks like maybe she wants to push him to _not_ do layout today either, but she’s heard about the mess that is newspaper club. She knows how bad things have been. Taako ducking out now would not go over well.

“Well, maybe tomorrow,” she says, after a beat. “I don’t work, but Kravitz does. I can come with you and cover the front for a bit while you do your thing.”

Ren is a fucking hero. Taako might be making new friends now, but she is the undisputed champion. Even better than he is at being a wingperson, although once he gets Barry and Lup to get their shit together he’ll reclaim the best wingperson title. “Thank fuck,” he says. “I’ll bring him a copy of The Starblaster. He can read my advice and tell me how brilliant I am.”

Ren bites into a baby carrot. “I’d laugh, except he probably will. No wonder you like him.”

The cat’s out of the bag, so Taako doesn’t even bother trying to deny it. “He’s got good taste, what can I say?”

*

Taako doesn’t _want_ to be nervous about his layout spellwork, but he is. He doesn’t have any actual experience doing layout, and even if he’s a fucking magical genius, there’s still _some_ practice involved in getting any spell down pat.

He’s got a little under an hour between the end of classes and the start of layout time and if his magic is going to look sloppy in front of the rest of the Starblaster crew, then _he’s_ going to look impeccable. He waves goodbye to Barry after magical theory and heads to his dorm to make himself presentable. Armour, Kravitz called it, and yeah—Taako may not be at war with Lucretia anymore, but he’s still happy to wrap himself up in thick layers of protection before he moves onto her turf.

Taako touches up his makeup and strips off his uniform. A layout and pizza party is probably a casual thing, but Taako doesn’t really believe in overdressed as a concept. He slips on a drapey velvet top and a pair of glittery leggings, which come with the added satisfaction of knowing he’s going to leave glitter strewn across Garfield’s library on his walk to Starblaster HQ.

Everyone else probably used at least some of the time between the end of classes and their meeting to do homework, but by the time Taako finishes getting ready and helps himself to some under-the-bed chocolate chips, it’s rolling up on three-thirty and he’s got a meeting to get to.

He pulls a sweater on over his top for additional warmth on the walk across the quad, then his leather jacket and a scarf. He grabs his bag from beside the door and heads out into the cold.

It’s freezing out, cold enough to promise that the next time the heavens open up it’ll be snow and not rain falling from the sky. Taako stuffs his hands under his armpits and presses his ears back against his head to try and avoid the worst of the cold as a blast of sharp wind blows across the deserted quad.

Along with a bitter chill, the wind brings with it the scent of cigarettes and the sound of the Hammerheads laughing.

“—are you going to do about it? Tell on us? Do you even know who my dad is, girly?”

“Yeah, do you even _know_?”

The voices are coming from around the corner of the boys’ dormitory. Taako feels bad for whatever kid was stupid enough to get cornered by the Hammerheads in _this_ weather, but he’s not stopping. He’s got a nice, warm meeting to get to.

“Of course I know who your father is, Maarvey. Martin Edgington protects all the biggest casinos in Goldcliff,” says Lucretia, and Taako pulls up short, ears perking up.

“Yeah… well… then you should know better than to mess with me!” Maarvey says. “I’m _untouchable_.”

“You mean you’ll have your father make any punishment you might face for bullying other students at school go away.” Lucretia says. And, because she’s got a death wish or something, she adds, “I wonder how the rest of Neverwinter High would feel about you if they knew you brought your father in to smooth away any problems you run into.”

Taako casts one last, longing look at the main school building and its promise of warmth, then turns on his heel and marches around the corner, towards where Lucretia stands, facing off against the Hammerheads.

Lucretia’s bundled up warm with her hands on her hips as she glares up at Maarvey, defiant, and Marvey’s got a stack of something in his hand, holding it above his head and well out of Lucretia’s reach—a stack of papers.

Papers Lucretia’s eyes keep shifting to and it’s _that_ that makes it click in Taako’s mind, what’s happening and why Lucretia hasn’t just walked away—Maarvey’s pissed and somehow he’s got his hands on the articles for the third issue of The Starblaster.

Taako’s pulls his wand. “What the fuck is going on here?” he demands, walking up to stand shoulder to shoulder with Lucretia.

“You think you can get away with whatever you want just because you’re smart,” Jerree says, glaring at him, then at Lucretia. “We’re just showing you how the world works. That’s all.”

“And how does the world work?” Taako asks. “Rich boys get to do whatever the what they want and get away with it?”

To be honest, that sounds about right to Taako, but the Hammerheads are in for a _big_ surprise if they think that’s what’s going to happen today.

“When little fishies swim with sharks, they get _bit_ ,” Jerree says, looking _real_ fucking proud of himself.

“How many people have you used _that_ one on?” Taako asks, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

Lucretia leaps up, reaching for the articles in Maarvey’s hand while they’re distracted by Taako, but Maarvey jerks back and tosses the stack to Little Jerry. Taako’s a split second from casting Mage Hand and trying to snatch them back, but Maarvey squares his shoulders, stepping closer to Lucretia and Taako and bumping them with his chest, blocking their way so they can’t even see Little Jerry anymore.

“I don’t think so,” Maarvey says. “If you want your papers back, you gotta do as we say. We don’t want anymore of the shit you pulled in your first issue.” He grins down at them. “You’ve gotta listen to us, or _else._ ”

“Fuck off,” Taako says, glaring at him. “Have you forgotten which one of us knows magic?”

“Nah, but I haven’t forgotten which one of us could get expelled any minute now neither,” Maarvey says. “From what I hear, you’re on _real_ thin ice, pal.”

“Taako, don’t do anything you’ll regret,” Lucretia says. “They’re not worth getting kicked out of school for. We’ll just go tell Principal Davenport they stole our work. I don’t know _what_ they think they’re going to accomplish besides digging a hole for themselves.”

Lucretia makes a good point. The Hammerheads will lie their asses off, and maybe Maarvey's father will make sure they don't get in any real trouble, but Davenport’s pretty sharp. He'll figure out something. He'll at least make them return the articles. “Yeah, fine,” he says, after giving Maarvey a dismissive once over. “These fools deserve Princi’port’s wrath.”

From behind Maarvey, Little Jerry lets out a gleeful cackle. Maarvey glances over his shoulder and then laughs too. “Hard to get us in trouble when you don’t have any proof,” he says, and then steps out of the way so they can see what they’re laughing about.

On the ground, at Little Jerry’s feet, is a burning pile of paper. Not _beginning_ to catch fire—actively burning. Lucretia gasps and a millisecond later there’s a wand in her hand and a shimmering bubble around what’s left of the papers, rapidly leeching the flames away.

Taako has a choice to make—who is he going to be? What do his actions say about the kind of person he is? His grip on his wand tightens. “Hey shithead. Remember how it’s against the rules to use magic against other students?”

Maarvey turns from watching Lucretia’s spell—from surveying the smouldering remains of what little is left of the last, unsalvageable vestiges of The Starblaster’s third issue—and smirks at Taako. “Yeah. You can’t do squat.”

Taako smiles, hard and cold and vicious. He has a choice to make, and he chooses to be a person who cares. He chooses to care even when it’s going to get him in trouble. Even when it’s going to mean meeting with Princi’port and disappointing Merle. Even when he knows there’ll be consequences.

Taako smiles, and he casts Magic Missile. “Abraca- _fuck you_.”

*

**_Q:_ ** _ Dear Justin, _

_ How do I make people stop assuming I'm straight? Please advise. _

_ A Tired Bi _

**_A:_ ** _ Dear Tired Bi, _

_ Kind of stuck between a rock and a hard place here, huh? I  _ could _ say start making a lot of comments about how attractive you find celebrities who are of the same gender as you, but let's be real—everyone will assume you're gay. What you need to do is start making a lot of jokes about not being able to make decisions, my dude. Hammer the point home and let the people know where you stand: on the fence. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Just Ask Justin _

**Q:** _Dear Justin,_

_ There's a girl that I like, but I'm scared to do anything about it. Not because of her potential reaction, but because I'm scared to be in a relationship. I've never gotten serious, and I'm terrified that we'll be awkward around one another if there's a romantic pretext. Or, that she'll kiss me and I'll be awful, or it'll be weird! I'm a girl with  _ very _ little experience here, and I was hoping you'd have advice on what to do. _

_ Hopeless Romantic _

**A:** _Dear Hopeless,_

_ You never get better at anything unless you try it. If you like her, she’s probably not a jerk, so tell her you have no idea what you’re doing and go from there. You’re looking at this all wrong. You’re not inexperienced—you’re the prime candidate for kissing practice. So what if things are awkward at first? You’ll go on a few weird dates and then laugh about how weird and awkward you were at the beginning after. Just go for it, homie. Make mistakes, have fun, kiss the girl. _

_ Just Ask Justin _

**_Q:_ ** _ Justin, _

_ I introduced my friend to a hobby (it's birdwatching, laugh all you want) and I enjoyed mentoring them at first. But now they are way more intense than I am and get really competitive over it. They are always trying to see the most birds, going out without me. This situation is starting to kill my passion for birds and for hanging out with them! How can I revive our friendship and my love of a hobby? _

_ Bewildered Birdwatcher _

**_A:_ ** _ Dear Bewildered, _

_ Trust me, I laughed. Now let’s talk about your problem. If they’re killing your passion, then you need to find someone else to go out with, start going on your own, or introduce them to another hobby. Get them really into trains or necromancy or something. If this is their competitive streak coming out around you, then the best way to win is to not engage. Nothing will shut a conversation down faster than telling them you think their birds are neat and moving right along. Alternatively, just tell them you’re not down with the aggressive environment they’re creating for you. You’re allowed to say no and opt out, especially if you explain why. _

_ Just Ask Justin _

**_Q:_ ** _ Dear Justin, _

_ I'm studying necromancy and have a lot of trouble having normal conversations that aren't about zombies or dead bodies. What are some normal things I can talk about so I stop grossing people out? _

_ Undead but not Inconsiderate _

**_A:_ ** _ Dear Undead, _

_ Get another hobby, my dude. Just because you're studying something doesn't mean you can't think about other things. Read a book and talk about that whenever you get the urge to mention death. Have you ever thought about birdwatching? _

_ Just Ask Justin _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The penultimate chapter! I hope you'll come back on Tuesday for the finale of this fic. (I feel like I should probably reiterate: Taako Adventurezone is not an expert and his advice should never be followed. Also your author is bi and definitely makes a lot of bi jokes for this _exact reason._ ) Your comments and the way you've embraced my high school AU that, uh, got big blow me away. I sincerely appreciate the support, especially going into the final round of edits for this fic.
> 
> As always, I can be found on tumblr at [@marywhal](http://marywhal.tumblr.com). Come talk to me!
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a kudos and comment.


	12. Buried Lead

_ Buried Lead: The point of the story is buried in the story instead of being in the first paragraph.  _

*

All hell breaks loose.

The bolts from Taako’s spell slam into the Hammerheads—one for each of them. Little Jerry and Jerree both fly back against the brick wall of the dorm building behind them, but Maarvey only staggers back a couple steps before he’s coming at Taako, snarling with rage. 

Maarvey throws a punch and Taako winces preemptively, squeezing his eyes shut as he braces for impact. Instead, he hears the meaty _thunk_ of Maarvey’s fist impacting something solid and inflexible.

Taako cautiously opens an eye. The air in front of him shimmers with the faint signs of a shielding spell and Maarvey is rubbing his hand.

“You’re going to pay for this,” Maarvey says, sneering at them. “Fucking wizards. You’re a _coward_.”

“Yeah, too fucking right I am,” Taako says. He curls his free hand into a fist to hide the way it’s shaking. “Go and tell Leon on me if you want. You think I give a fuck? I’ll tell Princi’port what you did too.”

Taako really hopes Lucretia’s got a solid hold on the shielding spell, otherwise this might not turn out so well for his face, and Taako likes his face.

Maarvey takes another swing and hits the shield again, fist bouncing off it.

“We’re going to get you guys,” Jerree says, helping Little Jerry to his feet. They’re both looking worse for wear. “You’re not so tough when you don’t have your girlfriend with you.”

Taako can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him. “I knew you were slow, but I didn’t know you were _that_ slow.”

“I think really they’re trying to imply that my help is worth less because I’m a girl,” Lucretia says.

Taako snorts. “They obviously haven’t met Lup.” He brandishes his wand. Lucretia seems to be maintaining the shield around them just fine. He’s not worried about that anymore. “Get lost or I’ll take another shot.”

Maarvey scowls and then glances back at the remains of their articles. Whatever spell Lucretia was using to try to smother the flames ended when she shielded herself and Taako instead. The papers aren’t actively aflame anymore, but they’re still burning.

Taako realizes what Maarvey’s planning too late, a split-second before he’s kicking his foot through the papers, sending them scattering over the quad as the wind picks them up in a shower of ash and ember.

Lucretia makes a pained noise.

Maarvey laughs and Jerree and Little Jerry join in, Little Jerry definitely forcing it.

Taako may have been extra mad at him. He’s small, but he’s an _asshole_.

“Try and make a paper out of _that_ ,” Jerree says, grinning at them. “You better learn to respect us or we’ll do worse next time.”

“Fuck off,” says Lucretia, and even Taako does a double-take, turning towards her. She looks _furious_ as she stares down the Hammerheads. “If you think you’re going to stop us, you’ve got another thing coming. We can’t be intimidated into silence. You can’t _threaten_ us into not telling the truth.”

“Pretty sure we can,” Maarvey says.

“Pretty sure we _did_ ,” Jerree adds.

“Boys, I think I might puke,” says Little Jerry.

Maarvey takes a step to the side as Jerree hooks an arm around Little Jerry. “Let’s get you to the nurse, bud.”

“Enjoy your paper while you can,” Maarvey says, turning to follow his friends towards the school building. “What’s left of it, anyway.”

Lucretia, to her credit, waits until the Hammerheads make it to the main building and disappear inside to drop her shield. As soon as it vanishes, she’s off like a shot, trying to collect the remains of their articles, picking up the papers closest to them while casting Mage Hand to retrieve the ones further away.

After a beat, Taako joins her, moving out onto the quad and grabbing any scrap of paper big enough to be legible. If Maarvey hadn’t kicked them everywhere they might have been able to cast mending on some and got enough content off them to rewrite their articles, but now it would be like assembling a puzzle missing half its parts. There’s no way. Even collecting the pieces seems like an exercise in frustration to Taako. What are they supposed to do with them, besides feel shitty about some assholes ruining all their work?

He tries to pick up a piece of paper half-covered with Lup’s messy handwriting and it disintegrates in his hand.

Lucretia is shaking, when Taako returns to her side, holding a haphazard collection of article fragments.

“I can’t believe they did this,” she says. “I can’t believe—we worked _so hard_ on this issue. How _could_ they?”

Taako reaches out and extracts the papers she’s salvaged from her hands before she accidentally crushes them. What little they have is fragile and Lucretia looks like she might either explode with rage or burst into tears at any moment. “Fuck them. They’re losers and they’ll get what’s coming to them,” Taako says. “I’m not afraid to burn another spell slot. Come on. We need to get to the meeting.”

Lucretia rubs her hands over his face, which is—there’s definitely ash on her forehead when she pulls them away, but now seems like a bad time for Taako to point that out. “You’re right. They deserve to know what happened. This is all my _fault_.”

Taako’s pretty sure it’s not. He’s pretty sure this one’s on him. _He’s_ the one who called the Hammerheads out in his first article. He’s the one who kept almost getting into fights with them in the halls. If you went back far enough, he and Lup were the one who conned them out of their stupid club jackets and made fun of their for being bad at pool. 

He’s the one who’s probably getting expelled tomorrow.

Lucretia just sat around, not reacting, when they made fun of her.

“How is this your fault?” he asks, as they start towards the main building.

“I could have lied,” she says. “I could have just promised them editorial control over this issue and then just… ignored their comments. There are things I could have done differently.”

Taako’s dealt with the Hammerheads and people like them plenty before. It doesn’t sound like Lucretia has. He holds the door to the school open for her. “Did you set anything on fire just now? Because I’m pretty sure that was all Little Jerry, which means you’re not responsible for fucking _anything_.”

“That’s not—”

Taako shakes his head. “No. _Listen_ for once, Lucretia. They’re the ones who set shit on fire. Not you. Therefore this? Is not your fault. Don’t let them make you feel fucking guilty because they ruined _your_ shit.”

Lucretia stops walking and Taako pulls up short, looking back at her. “What?” he asks.

“You’re right,” she says. “I know you are, but—everyone’s work is _gone_ , Taako. All of it is ruined. They trusted me with their articles and I was—”

“Jumped by three big dudes with rich dads who were threatening you while you were out there on your own?” Taako frowns at her. “Do you honestly think people are going to blame you for that?”

“I blame me.”

“Well… stop.” Taako’s all out of wisdom. He reaches out and grabs Lucretia’s arm, tugging her forward, into the library. “Come on. You’ve got a room full of people to lead or whatever.”

Everyone else is waiting when they reach the office. Lup’s eyebrows go up when she sees them together and for a moment she looks like she’s going to make a joke about it, but she must see something on their faces because her expression goes abruptly concerned. “Taako? What’s wrong?”

Taako grimaces. “The Hammerheads fucked us over,” he says. “They stole our articles from Lucretia and—well.” He puts the small stack of burned paper in his hand down on the table. “That’s what’s left.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucretia says. “I’m _so_ sorry. I should have—I should have done _something_ to stop them. This is all my fault. You all worked so hard on your articles. We had such a good issue and now it’s just… gone.”

There’s a moment of silence as everyone looks at what’s left of their work, looks at what little Taako and Lucretia managed to save. Lup is the one who makes the first move. She gets up from her stool and pulls Lucretia into a hug. “It’s not your fault,” she says. “It’s okay.”

Barry nods. “Of _course_ it’s not your fault. We'll redo it and get the issue out next week, Lucretia. It'll be okay. We'll come out on the wrong Thursday, but it's only our third issue. Everyone will understand.”

“Yeah, we can tell them what happened,” Angus says. “Everyone knows the Hammerheads are bullies.”

Magnus gets to his feet and wraps his arms around Lup and Lucretia both because Magnus is a hugger. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you guys,” he says. “Nobody blames you, Luce.”

Taako looks around the room, at Lucretia's devastated expression as she hugs Lup and Magnus back, at the sympathy and determination on everyone else's face, and he can't fucking believe he's the one what's going to do this. He doesn't even _care_ about the paper the way they do.

"Fuck that," he says, with far more venom in his tone than he expected. "Seriously. Fuck that and fuck them. They think we won’t be able to get another issue out by tomorrow, but we already wrote all our shit once. How hard can it be to write again?” He looks around the room. “Lup and I don’t need much sleep. The rest of you can power through. Come on. You really want to let them _win_?”

“It’s a whole issue, Taako,” Lucretia says, pulling out of the hug. “That’s a lot of articles. Barry and I are good at running the spells for layout and the press, but we also write most of the content, and there’s the editing—”

“So we do things differently,” Taako says, cutting her off. “It’s four pages. I’ve got a million letters for the column. We can do half a sheet of advice if we have to, but you’ve _got_ other people here, Lucretia. _Use_ us. Let us take on more content this time. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t want to give those Hammerhead fucks the satisfaction of throwing us off for even one week. I’m ready to do this. I’ll write about budgeting and review the fucking meatloaf if I have to. Come on.”

“Yeah,” Lup says, after a moment. “ _Fuck_ yeah, Taako’s right. We can’t let some kids who think they should always get what they want push us around. We can do this. Right?”

“I’m up for it,” Barry says, smiling. “Those guys are the worst.”

Taako looks at Lucretia. “Well, Madam Editor? What do you say?”

Lucretia hesitates, glancing at Angus and Magnus. “Are you two on board?”

“Of course,” Magnus says. “No question.”

Angus nods. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“Then—okay. Okay, we’re going to try to do this.” Lucretia squares her shoulders, striding to the front of the room and picking up a piece of chalk. “Does anyone have a draft of their piece or notes they can work off of?”

“I’ve got notes for my cafeteria piece,” Angus says. “I can re-write it. We can expand it, maybe. Taako can weigh in this week instead of for the next issue.”

“If we have time for that, then yes,” Lucretia agrees, writing the article beside Angus’s name. “What else can you do?”

Angus hesitates. “I could… write about Caleb Cleveland?”

The Starblaster already ran a review of the latest book, but Taako’s heard Angus recount the plot of multiple books from memory. Taako is also familiar with the kind of content that fills the magazines he brings to field hockey games. It may not be what Lucretia wants for this paper, but Angus can make it classy. “Top five Caleb Cleveland novels,” Taako says. “With a short review under each title.”

“Great,” Lucretia says, and writes it down. “Barry?”

“My interview with Merle is gone,” he says. “I could _maybe_ redo the piece on diversity, but did you—I assume you had edits for it?”

“I did,” Lucretia says. “Scrap both those for now. Fourth issue. You and Lup can redo the piece on the necromancy club, then maybe try and do the field hockey game together?”

“Hell yeah,” Lup says, grinning at Barry. “We’re a great team. Right, babe? We’ll knock it out of the park.”

Barry looks blindsided by this comment. He gives Lup a shy, besotted smile. “Y-yeah. We’re great together.”

Lucretia pulls back and looks up at the board, chewing on her lower lip. “Magnus,” she says, after a moment. “What can you write me about dogs?”

Magnus’s whole face lights up. “What do you _want_ about dogs?” he asks. “Can I rate them too? Oh, I’d have to choose though, wouldn’t I? That’s not good. I can do…” Magnus glances at Taako. “Dog advice?”

Lucretia gives Magnus a blank look. Everyone gives Magnus a blank look. Considering only the day school students have even the vague possibility of owning a pet dog it’s kind of a... limited concept, and _dog advice_ doesn’t exactly sound like an anchor feature. It doesn’t really sound like anything, to Taako, who has never in his life owned or desired to own a pet. _Magnus_ probably doesn’t know what dog advice is either, but he looks pleased with the suggestion.

“Magnus, this is…” Lucretia trails off. “You know what? Okay. You write me dog advice.” She turns to Taako. “You still have lots of letters, right? You could—” She cuts herself off, pausing. “You could write a letter to the _editor_. You could write about the Hammerheads and we could publish it.Angus is right. We _can’t_ let them get away with this. A letter to the editor would be the _perfect_ place for calling attention to the blatant favouritism and sustained systematic oppression within Neverwinter High’s walls, to talk about the Hammerheads and their history of bullying. You’d do a good job writing that, Taako. And you could use whatever by-line you wanted.”

It’s true. Taako would do a good job. He could spend _days_ calling the Hammerheads out on their bullshit, and in a letter to the editor he wouldn’t need to worry about style either. He could just—go. Except thinking about a letter to the editor and calling out the Hammerheads and Lucretia all together points to another, better option.

Merle joked, weeks ago, about Davenport giving Taako open access to the press. It doesn’t feel so much like a joke anymore.

“I _could_ write a letter,” he says. “Or we could put it on the front fucking page.”

“We can’t do that,” Lucretia says, frowning. “That’s—Taako.”

“Why not?” Taako gestures towards the scraps of their articles sitting on the table. “They set our shit on fire. It’s not speculation. It’s not libel. It’s a fucking fact. We were there. We have _proof_.”

“The Board—”

“You said this was important,” Taako says. “You said that journalism was a way to hold people to account. To step in when nobody else would. Lucretia, this is your chance to do that. Maybe we’ll face consequences, but if we spend the rest of the year scared of what the Board’s going to say about our work then what’s the _point_? Right now, we don’t have _any_ supervision. Right now, there’s nobody watching who’s going to shoot down our ideas. We can print anything we fucking want and they’ll only find out about it tomorrow morning. By then, it’ll be too late to stop us.” Taako spreads his arms wide, gesturing around the room. “It’s open season, my dudes. Go _wild_.”

“Taako that’s—brilliant.” Barry turns to Lucretia. “Lucretia, he’s right. It’s—”

“I know,” Lucretia says. She hasn’t taken her eyes off Taako. There’s a faint smile on her face. “It’s perfect.”

“What are you going to write then, babe?” Lup asks. “More advice?”

Taako could do more advice, but he’s already doled out some choice wisdom today and if everyone else is going to do what makes them happy—even if for his sister and Barry that’s _talking_ to each other—then he is too. He shakes his head. “Nah, Maggie’s got advice covered with the dog thing. Cha’boy’s doing a recipe column,” he says. “I’m going to _prove_ they could be feeding us better. We can run it beside the cafeteria thing Ango and I are going to do.” He looks at Lucretia. “That good?”

Lucretia turns and scrawls ‘recipes’ beside Taako’s name on the chalkboard. “Like I said, perfect.”

*

Angus’s notes are mostly numbers—how much Neverwinter High budgets for food and what they buy. Almost everything is bought frozen and in bulk, but that’s not really a surprise to Taako, who’s eaten the previously frozen French fries and experienced the wilted lettuce of their salads. The surprise is the amount of waste Angus has noted down.

“Why the fuck do we throw out all this bread?” Taako asks, frowning down at the numbers. “Is this how they _steal_ in the cafeteria? Are they laundering carbs?”

“I don’t think the cooks are stealing, sir,” Angus says, leaning over to look at his notepad too. “It’s stale. Nobody will eat stale bread.”

Taako snorts. “Not with that attitude. Shit, they just _throw away_ brown bananas? Has nobody told them about fucking banana bread?”

Considering his last three and a half years are this school, the sheer amount of waste _shouldn’t_ be a surprise, but it is. “Whoever runs the kitchen wouldn’t last a week on the road. The caravan head would toss them out on their ear for throwing away perfectly good food.” He flips through the inventory Angus got a hold of and makes a disgusted sound. “Canned broth. They even throw away the _bones_ when they cook something besides ground beef. Just make _stock_. It’s _easy_. I can’t believe this. They have a _professional kitchen_.”

Taako’s never been around everyone else when they’re writing before, but there’s a feeling of urgency in the office spurring them all on. Their deadline is tighter than it’s ever been and even if they all finish the assignments they’ve got written down in time, they don’t have quite enough for a full issue yet. Not unless they all _really_ stretch things, and Taako has a feeling Lucretia’s editorial eye will object to that.

Magnus is plugging away at his dog advice, apparently taking the concept very seriously because he’s got three pages of notes for it so far. Barry and Lup are in the corner together, Lup in the ugly armchair and Barry on a stool next to her, whispering about either field hockey or necromancy—there’s a lot of smiling going on, so Taako hopes it’s hockey—and Lucretia, at the head of the table, is a small whirlwind. She’s made her notes and is scrawling out a draft of her article calling out the Hammerheads, murmuring under her breath. Taako is for sure the loudest person in the room, but his incredulity is well-earned.

“If Rick was any good at his job he’d take all the food the cafeteria wants to throw away and show his class how to cook with it,” Taako says. “Except maybe the stale bread. Does the cafeteria not realize they could make breadcrumbs for their horrible meatloaf? Or _bread pudding_? If they just soaked it in an egg custard overnight they could have baked french toast on offer every morning. People think that shit is fancy.”

Angus extracts his notes from Taako and pushes a sheet of blank paper towards him. “You should write your recipes down so we can print them and show everyone.”

“Yeah, too fucking right I should,” Taako says, opening his tote bag so he can dig out a pen. “Forget the overview of their bad budgeting this week, pumpkin. We’re doing food waste. Taako’s feeling inspired.”

True, his ideas aren’t anything that could be made in the dorms, but they’re not complex either. Taako’s not calling for anything to be transmuted. He’s not introducing obscure or expensive ingredients—they’re basic and they’re simple and both the banana bread and the baked french toast are equal parts delicious and easy to recreate. He’s not kidding when he says it would be good practice for the home ec classes. It would teach some actual life skills to the spoiled kids they go to school with. Making broth sound delicious is harder, but if any waste really frustrates Taako, it’s that. The cafeteria could get so much _more_ out of their vegetable and meat scraps if they wanted to try, if they didn’t rely on having a budget that meant they could just toss anything that didn’t get eaten in the garbage.

Taako could do so much more with their equipment and their ingredients and he has been _dying_ without access to a kitchen. The last thing he made was croque monsieur and it had almost gotten him expelled from school. He misses cooking. He misses it a _lot_.

Which is maybe a good thing, since this is likely his last night at school. After this, he’ll have to get a job of some kind so he can land on his feet. Maybe Ren will be able to convince The Davy Lamp to hire him. Taako can’t exactly join up with a caravan when Lup’s still in school, and there’s _no way_ he’s letting her drop out because of him.

He glances at her, at the way she’s leaning in close to Barry, who’s smiling at her like the smitten teenager her is. Lup’s laughing at something Barry’s saying—again, Taako hopes they’re writing about field hockey—and it’s... nice. It’s nice to see his sister sitting next to a boy who looks at her like she hung the moon. It’s nice to know that even if Taako’s not around all the time, she’ll still be good. The Starblaster is the only course they have together and she’s friends with everyone else on the paper now anyway. Plus, he’s stormed out of most Starblaster meetings. It’s not like him being absent will be much of a change.

“Sir?”

Taako glances at Angus, who looks worried, and raises an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“You’re not writing anything.”

Taako looks down at the ingredient list in front of him—all he’s managed to get down so far—and then drops his pen. If he sits and tries to work quietly he’ll _never_ finish this. Taako needs a distraction. “This isn’t how recipe creation happens, Ango. We’re going about this all wrong.”

“We… are?” Angus, Taako notes, has written quite a bit in his notebook.

“Yes, we are. We need to handle this scientifically, my dude. We need to test this shit out.”

Angus looks down at Taako’s list of ingredients, then up at Taako again. “You want to go to the kitchen?”

Taako would _love_ to be set loose in Neverwinter High’s kitchens. He’d love to just go _wild_ in them, but no. “Nah, they’ll be coming up on dinner service now. We won’t be able to do anything there. We’re breaking into the home ec room.”

“Breaking in?” Angus repeats. “Are you sure that’s… a good idea?”

It’s definitely not a good idea. If they get caught, he’s toast. Taako can’t bring himself to give a fuck. He needs a distraction and everyone loves fresh baked goods. “Do you or do you not want banana bread, little man?”

Angus give him an evaluating look. “Can we put chocolate chips in it?”

“Of fucking _course_ we’re putting chocolate chips in it. What do you take me for?” Taako asks, getting to his feet. “Let’s go.”

Lucretia looks up from her writing. “Is something wrong?”

“Ango and I have some reconnaissance to do vis-à-vis our articles,” Taako says, shaking his head. “We’re good.” He pauses and looks down at Angus. “Muffins, not bread. Done faster.”

Angus hesitates, then writes this down on his notepad. Taako hadn’t _intended_ to recruit him as a scribe, but he’s not about to object either.

“We’re off,” Taako says. “We’ll be back with muffins, a recipe, and an article.”

Lup raises an eyebrow. “Muffins?”

“What _kind_ of muffins?” Magnus asks. “Good muffins?”

“Everything I make is good,” Taako says, giving Magnus an unimpressed look because _please_. “Banana chocolate chips muffins. Angus and I are writing about food waste at this school.”

“And that… what does that have to do with muffins?” Barry asks, glancing around the room.

Taako snorts. Rich boy. Barry’s sweet, but _definitely_ a naive rich boy. “Everything,” he says. “You’ll see.”

“That’s a good idea, babe,” says Lup, who _gets_ him. “Butter or oil?”

“Do not backseat recipe me.” Taako gives her a stern look and then turns to Lucretia. “You good with me taking the boy and doing some taste testing?”

Lucretia doesn’t even hesitate, waving Taako and Angus away. “Of course,” she says. “Come back in one piece with your articles written and you can bake whatever you want to while you do it.”

Taako leads Angus out of the office and down the mostly deserted hallway. Late afternoon is teetering over into evening and classrooms tend to be abandoned by everyone but clubs and teachers after classes let out. It means there’s no one around to stop them when they reach the home ec room and Taako casts Knock to unlock the door.

Inside, he flicks on the lights and surveys his domain—six ovens that go virtually unused, cupboards and fridges full of ingredients most of the students in Rick’s classes will never touch, and a bevy of equipment just waiting for Taako to get stuck in.

Taako cracks his knuckles and pulls out his wand, casting Mage Hand to start gathering the ingredients he needs. “Today you’re going to learn some important life skills, pumpkin. This is easy as—well, easy as banana muffins. You’re not ready for pie yet.”

Taako grabs an apron for himself, putting it on, and drops a second one onto Angus’s head.

The bananas in the home ec room aren’t quite ripe yet, but apparently the school throws brown bananas away so that’s not a surprise. It’s also easy enough to Taako to fix with magic. Three of those, peeled, go into a bowl that he hands off to Angus once Angus sorts his apron out.

“Mash those with a fork. Okay, so the secret to good muffins is not over-mixing them. People get worried about lumps and keep beating until they’ve made an overworked mess of their batter. We’re not going to do that.”

Taako starts measuring out his dry ingredients in another bowl. “You can make muffins like you’d make a cake and cream butter and sugar together, but you can also just use melted butter or oil. Our fellow classmates are useless, so we’re going to use oil today. Easier for them to handle. Our crust won’t be as good, but sometimes you’ve just gotta suck it up and deal, you feel me?”

“I—yes sir,” Angus says, and holds up his bowl of half-mashed bananas. “Is this good?”

“Little more elbow grease.” Taako sends his Mage Hand over to turn on the oven. “We should _also_ always remember to preheat our shit. I’m out of practice. If you’re doing something like muffins, which use chemical leaveners, preheat about twenty-five degrees hotter than you want to bake at and turn down the temperature once you’ve got your muffins in. It’ll give you a better rise on your bake.”

“Should I be writing this down?”

Taako glances at Angus and plucks the bowl of banana mush from his hands. “I’ve got it,” he says. “You’re here to be my sous-chef. Find me a muffin tin and some liners.”

Angus leaves on his quest and Taako pulls the muffins together quickly—eggs, oil, milk, and vanilla go in with the banana, then the dry ingredients get mixed with the wet. He folds the chocolate chips in last, and by then Angus has returned with a tin and liners.

“Three-quarters full,” Taako says, spooning batter into the cases. “You don’t want them to overflow and meld together. If i was being real professional I’d weigh this, but who wants to fuck around with that?”

Angus is on his tip-toes, watching Taako spoon the batter like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. “How long does it take to bake them, sir?”

“Not too long. They’re small. Somewhere between fifteen and twenty minutes. Depends on the oven. These ones are bad so it’ll probably take a little longer, but we’ll keep an eye on them. Might have to rotate the pan to get an even bake part way through. Won’t be hard.”

Taako finishes with the batter and picks up the tray, walking over to the oven and sticking them in. He turns the heat down and sets a timer. 

It feels... good. Being in the kitchen again. Making things. _Knowing_ that his muffins are going to come out amazing. Even his slipshod job talking Angus through putting the batter together like this was one of their magic lessons is nice. It’s good to do something he knows he’s good at and just… be recognized for it. Even before they’ve tasted the end product, the awe on Angus’s face as Taako moves confidently through the kitchen is fulfilling as hell.

Taako doesn’t want to stop now, and as much as he likes pineapple and pepperoni pizza—fuck that.

“Okay,” he says, clapping his hands together. “We’ve got time to kill and Taako’s feeling generous. Let’s see what we can cook up for dinner, shall we?”

*

Taako and Angus re-enter Starblaster HQ with a stack of dishes, muffins, a tub of steamed rice, and vegetable and chicken stir-fry. Sneaking it all in through the library required a _minor_ shielding spell to stop anyone smelling the food, but once they’re inside and the door is closed, Taako drops it.

“Holy shit,” Magnus says. “That smells _amazing_.”

“I forgot about food,” Lucretia says, looking up from her work too. The papers surrounding her have multiplied since Taako and Angus left. “I should have ordered the pizza.”

“Fuck that. Cha’boy’s catering tonight,” Taako says, setting the food down. “I even brought muffins for dessert. Ango’s got the plates.”

There’s nothing complicated about the food, but it’s all expertly seasoned and perfectly cooked. Taako watches, smug, as everyone helps themselves to rice and stir-fry and starts making pleased noises as they eat.

“I missed your cooking, babe,” Lup says, around a piece of chicken. “I missed your cooking _so much_.”

“Taako transmuted the chicken from ham,” Angus says, as he takes a seat with his own plate. “I didn’t even know you could do that.”

“As long as it’s edible, why not?” Taako asks, shrugging as he takes a seat with his own plate of food. “It’s useful when you’re cooking on a budget. Don’t have to waste money on the fancy stuff when you can just transmute it.”

“It is a specialized skill set though, bud,” Barry says. “Don’t downplay it. That’s a lot of work.”

Taako shrugs because yeah, it’s work, but for him it’s nothing new.

“This is so _good_ ,” Magnus says, shovelling rice into his mouth. “The cafeteria’s really bad, huh?”

“The cafeteria is _the worst_ ,” Taako agrees, pointing his fork at him. “Never doubt me about cooking.”

“This is amazing, Taako. Thank you,” Lucretia says.

Taako turns to look at her. He’s preening despite himself. He _knows_ how good he is in the kitchen, but it’s good to have his talents recognized. “Natch. Like I said, never doubt me. I know what I’m about.”

“Have you ever thought about doing this professionally?” Lucretia asks. “I know you said you were planning on attending the IPR, but this is—very good. There’s always culinary school.”

Taako glances at Lup, who’s nodding along with Lucretia as she eats, like Taako deviating from their plan wouldn’t completely upset everything they’ve been working towards for _years_ now. They have a plan. They’re supposed to stick to it.

Lup glances at him and smiles, swallows the food in her mouth. “Hey, I’m here to hold you up, not hold you back. You’d be a baller chef.”

“I’m _already_ a baller chef,” Taako says, and Lup laughs and turns back to her dinner like the whole thing is no big deal.

Maybe it’s not. Maybe Taako shouldn’t cling so hard to a dream that’s not even his, but it’s—the Institute felt like destiny, when they were kids. It was a symbol of everything they’d ever wanted—money, recognition, stability. It’s a lot to give up on, even when he’s not sure he wants it anymore.

Taako tries to push thoughts about the future aside. It seems presumptuous anyway. There’s the expulsion thing to worry about still. Who _knows_ what’s going to happen in the morning? Right now, his priority is helping get the third issue of The Starblaster out. Right now, prioritizing other people is a real fucking good distraction from the introspection he’s not prepared to do.

Angus has most of his article drafted, just needs some input from Taako. Writing out his banana muffin recipe isn’t hard, but then there’s editing so it’s cohesive and _that’s_ a pain he didn’t realize Lucretia, Barry, and Angus were subjecting themselves to. Taako’s good with not having a big role at the paper. Editing is boring and hard and he’s only got the one thing to write so Lucretia just hands him Lup and Barry’s field hockey article too read through when he and Angus finish piecing their article together and up next it’s Magnus’s dog advice.

Dog advice, as it turns out, is about dog training. It’s going to appeal to a very, very small portion of the school, but Taako just finds misspelled words and comma splices and forgets about the content because they don’t have time to worry about things like demographics for their paper right now. They just need to get shit done so they can get _something_ out in the morning.

Taako only looks up from his work when his eyes start to ache and the words start to blur on the page. “What time is it?” he asks, glancing at Lucretia. Maybe they have stuff written, but he was right earlier—it’s not enough for a full issue and it’s not just him, _everyone’s_ flagging, even with the food. Plus, they still have to do the layout and run the press, fold the papers for the stands... 

Right now, Taako’s regretting leading the charge on the whole not giving up thing. Right now, giving up so he can do _something else_ sounds pretty good.

Lucretia looks at her watch and groans. “Almost nine,” she says. “We can’t slow down now. We can still make this happen. It’s not _that_ late.”

“I’ve got some energy drinks back in my dorm,” Barry says, lifting his glasses so he can rub his eyes. “I could go and get them to keep us awake.”

Taako makes a face. There are some lines even he won’t cross. “No thanks,” he says. “I’m not tired enough to fill my body with weird heart attack chemicals.”

Lup snorts. “I’ve seen the drinks you order at The Davy Lamp, babe. You have no room to talk. They’re _all_ sugar and caffeine.”

Lup is a fucking genius. 

“Holy shit,” Taako says. “Ren is _working tonight_. Lup, give me your stone of farspeech.”

“Seriously? You don’t have yours on you?”

“Now is not the time for a lecture, Lulu. Now is the time to see if Ren will bring us coffee.”

“Oh my god,” Magnus says, perking up at the end of the table. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Taako says. “Lup, _please_. Coffee.”

“Yeah, Lup. _Please_ ,” Magnus says.

Even Barry looks starry-eyed at the promise of coffee instead of an energy drink. “Do you really think she’ll bring us coffee?”

“One way to find out,” Lup says, and pulls her stone off from around her neck to pass over to Taako.

He calls Ren’s frequency _immediately_ because The Davy Lamp is closing and that means he’s got a tiny window where this is a possibility, depending on how generous Ren is feeling.

Ren picks up on the third ring. “Lup?”

“Nah, you’ve got Taako on the horn,” Taako says. “Ren, how much do you love me?”

There is a brief pause before Ren responds which Taako finds a _little_ insulting. “I guess… the normal amount? What’s happening right now?”

“The Hammerheads burned all our articles. Like, literally set them on fire,” Taako says. “We’re pulling an all-nighter here and we’re flagging, but we’re not done. Ren, could you—”

“You want me to bring you guys coffee?”

“ _Please_.” Taako owes Ren his first born child.

Another pause, this time like Ren is considering the logistics of bringing them coffee and being a fucking hero. “Yeah,” she says, after a beat. “Of course I’ll come. What does everyone want?”

Lucretia blinks at the stone in Taako’s hand and Taako feels like he can see the internal struggle between insisting that she doesn’t need anything and the fact that they all _definitely_ need a pick-me-up play out across her face. Her need for caffeine wins. “Red eye,” she says. “Three shots of espresso.”

“Damn,” says Ren.

“We’ve got a paper to finish.” Lucretia’s expression settles into one of determination. “I’m not fucking around.”

*

The coffee arrives with a knock on the closed office door and when Taako goes to open it he finds himself face to face not with Ren, but Kravitz. Kravitz, with his dreads pulled up into a bun. Kravitz, dressed in his uniform black clothing. Kravitz, holding a drink tray.

Ren peeks into the room from behind Kravitz’s shoulder. “I brought an assistant,” she says.

“I—hey.” Taako feels blindsided. He steps back so Ren and Kravitz can come in with their collection of coffees and Angus’s black tea with milk. “You didn’t have to come all the way here.”

“I wanted to,” Kravitz says, in his terrible Cockney accent.

Taako sees Angus’s head whip up out of the corner of his eye. “You did, huh?” He just barely manages to keep himself from laughing, but the amusement is still obvious in his voice.

Kravitz rolls his eyes and moves around Taako to set his drink tray down on the table. “Of course,” he says. “I wanted to see you. It’s been too long.”

Taako doesn’t have a comeback for that, still trying to process the fact that Kravitz is _here_. His ears are burning and when he looks away from Kavitz to maybe get himself under control, Lup’s watching them with interest. She catches Taako’s eye and raises an eyebrow and—fuck—Taako was not planning on the two of them meeting so soon. Not that he’s given much thought to the two of them meeting _at all_. Mostly he’s been trying to keep them apart because Lup knows _everything_ about him and Kravitz doesn’t need to know everything yet.

Taako is very glad this experience comes with sugar-saturated coffee to propel him through it. He extends a hand in Kravitz’s direction. “Give me a latte, please. I need it.”

Kravitz laughs and pulls a drink out of his tray, handing it to him. “One Taako special,” he says, with a wink, and then goes to help Ren distribute the rest of the drinks.

Taako’s cup has a heart on it, even though Kravitz walked it to him personally, and that’s just—ridiculous. Kravitz is a ridiculous person and Taako doesn’t know how to deal with him.

“So,” Ren says, once everyone has their drinks. “What can we do to help?”

Taako focuses up, blinking at Ren and Kravitz in surprise. “What?”

“We want to help,” Kravitz says. “We’re done work. We’ve got time. We brought coffee for ourselves, even. I don’t know anything about newspapers, but if there’s anything I can do, I’m here.”

“We’d love your help,” Lucretia says, before Taako can step in and point out that Kravitz doesn’t even _go here_. “If you can write, we can use you. We need a few more articles to fill out the paper and then we need to do layout and printing and get the papers into the stands it’s—there’s a lot of work still to be done to get everything in on time tomorrow.” She pauses for a moment, frowning at Kravitz like she’s only just now registered that he’s not familiar. “Do you… go here?”

“No,” Kravitz says, shrugging. “I’m a student at the Neverwinter Conservatory, but I work with Ren at The Davy Lamp and Taako and I—we’re friends.”

Lucretia takes having a random music student join her paper in stride. “Okay,” she says. “Sure. Write me a review of—something. Some music. Anything you want. Ren, what can you offer me?”

Ren pauses for a moment. “Is… talking about the course load for boarders affecting day students who might also work a part-time job differently anything?”

“It’s perfect,” Lucretia says, and takes a sip of her dangerously strong coffee. “Let’s do this.”

“Oh,” Kravitz says. “Before we start working, there’s one more thing.” He glances back at Taako and Taako straightens where he stands because he suddenly understand what Kravitz is planning and— _now_? _This_ is where Kravitz is going to do this?

Kravitz turns to Ren. “When I interviewed for the barista job at The Davy Lamp I sort of… panicked,” he says. “Everyone seemed a lot cooler than me, so I… faked an accent.” Kravitz drops it, speaking in his normal voice. “This is what I really sound like, but once I got the job I felt like I had to… keep up the charade, I guess. When I slipped up in front of Taako, he made me promise to tell you in front of him.”

The room is dead quiet for a long, long moment after the confession, everyone staring at Kravitz, who accepts the attention with the air of a man who expected worse than the incredulity on everyone’s faces. And then Ren starts laughing. Ren laughs so hard she has to sit down on the floor to keep herself from falling over, and the rest of the Starblaster crew—most of whom haven’t _met_ Kravitz before today—follow suit because what the fuck else can you _do_ in response to a confession like that?

Kravitz turns to look at Taako again, and he’s blushing, but grinning too, wide, braces on full display. He looks extremely pleased with himself. “Satisfied?”

Taako can’t help but laugh at that, as Ren tries to get herself under control. He walks over and links his arm with Kravitz’s, tapping the lids of their coffee cups together. “Absolutely. Cheers to a job well done, bubelah. You’re never going to have any respect in this room ever again.”

Kravitz shrugs and takes a sip of his coffee. “I brought your friends coffee and made them laugh. I think I made a pretty good first impression.”

“Dork,” Taako says, and his voice is heavy with affection, even to his own ears.

Ren looks up at them from the floor, holding up her hands. “Help me up. I can’t believe the accent was _fake_. I can’t believe you kept it going for so _long_. Oh fuck, let’s never explain it to our customers. Please just let it disappear and confuse them all.”

“It wasn’t a very good accent,” Angus says. “People probably suspected.”

Taako grabs Ren’s hand and helps her to her feet. “Not everyone spends all their time reading Caleb Cleveland, Ango. The rest of us take a little longer putting together the clues.” Taako doesn’t know _why_ he’s defending Kravitz’s shitty accent, but apparently he is. 

Once Ren’s on her feet and everyone has calmed down, Taako tugs Kravitz around the table, to where Lup and Barry are sitting. There’s no point in delaying this now. Lup will insert herself if Taako doesn’t make the introduction himself. “Krav, this is my sister, Lup. Lup, this is Krav. Also Barold.”

“Barry,” Barry says, smiling as he holds a hand out to Kravitz like this is a business meeting or something. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Kravitz says, shaking Barry’s hand.

Lup wipes tears from her eyes and looks Kravitz over again, close up. She nods, once, and looks at Taako. “Nice,” she says, giving him a thumbs up. “Good job, babe.”

Taako rolls his eyes. “Let’s focus on Barry for now,” he says, loudly. “Barry’s also a nerd. He’s into death and stuff too. He’s president of the necromancy club at school.” He glances down at Barry. “Krav grew up in the temple of the Raven Queen. He was raised by a bunch of priestesses.”

Barry goes pale. When Taako looks back at Kravitz, he sees a weird, frozen expression on his face too.

There’s a moment of awkward silence which means Taako should maybe look up what Kravitz’s spooky bird goddess _does_. “So… Raven Queen’s not super into necromancy, I’m guessing?”

“No, she’s... not _really_ a fan,” Kravitz says. “Sort of views necromancy as…. Antithetical to the natural laws of life and death and everything she stands for.”

“Cool,” Taako says. “Angus is ranking the top five Caleb Cleveland novels. Let’s go talk about _that_.”

Taako leads Kravitz away from whatever tension is forming between him and Barry and over to Angus, who’s claimed the ugly armchair. Kravitz sits, when Taako tugs him down onto the stools nearest the chair, and smiles at Angus, obviously willing to push through and not focus on the whole necromancy thing, thank Istus. Or the Raven Queen. Pan. Whoever watches over awkward social situations.

“So you’ve got The Princely Problem on your list, right?” Kravitz asks, and Angus nods. “What about The Secret in the Stars?”

Taako watches as Kravitz and Angus launch into a spirited debate about whether or not Caleb Cleveland and the Secret in the Stars belongs on a list of top five Caleb Cleveland novels and finds himself smiling. It’s ridiculous. He should be stressed out. He’s got some serious consequences looming in his future, with the possible expulsion, and The Starblaster may have recruited backup, but they still have a lot of work to do. He shouldn’t be… happy. It feels ridiculously self-indulgent.

When he looks away from Kravitz, back at Lup and Barry, Lup is watching him, a faint smile on her face. She gives him another, more subtle, thumbs up.

Taako rolls his eyes and jerks a thumb of his own in Barry’s direction because _please_. He’s not sure how long he can take her drawing out the thing between them, especially when it’s obvious to everyone else that they’re into each other. Lup and Barry are _smart_. They should have it figured out by now.

Lup sticks her tongue out at Taako and goes back to work.

“Taako?”

Taako looks up at Lucretia, who’s holding a couple sheets of paper in her hands. “We need a headline,” she says, sitting on the empty stool to his left. “For my article. Something snappy. You’re better at that sort of thing than I am.”

“Sheesh, but no pressure, huh?” It’s true though. He is better at naming things than Lucretia is. The fact that his usual advice column is called Words of Wisdom speaks to that. Taako taps his fingers on the table. 

“Well, it should be some kind of shark thing, right? Or something with fish? Bait and Switch? No.” He makes a face. “The reference is fine if we can make it work. Something with sharks circling our boat? That’s bad.” Taako pauses, thinks over the rules he’s learned since starting at the paper and the things he _wants_ to be able to say in the paper.. “Are we allowed to call them the Hammerheads in the headline or should I be trying to go with Local Hooligans?”

Lucretia raises an eyebrow. “This issue is going to be a mess,” she says. “It’ll be a heartfelt mess, and I’ll be proud of us for getting it down and out there, but it’ll still be a mess. Go with what your gut tells you. Anything you want.”

“Then fuck it,” Taako says. “Hammerheads Bite! Starblaster Fights.”

Lucretia laughs, and it probably has more to do with stress and the amount of caffeine she’s currently consuming than how funny the headline actually is, but it’s still gratifying to hear. “Perfect,” she says. “It’s terrible. I love it.”

Taako grins and holds his fist out to her. “It’s how we do, bosslady.”

Lucretia bumps their fists together with a snort. “God, and I was just coming around to Madam Editor.”

Taako laughs. “Well, that’s it, then. It’s Madam Editor for good now.”

Lucretia takes a sip of her coffee and gets to her feet, now that Taako’s provided her with a headline. “I can take it. Help your boyfriend with his review, would you?”

“He’s not—we’re just friends.”

Lucretia glances down at where Taako’s arm is still linked with Kravitz’s, despite their completely separate conversations. “Sure,” she says. “Help him out anyway.”

There are some downsides, Taako’s finding, to all these people inexplicably befriending him.

*

By the time the articles are written, by the time they’re edited and they’ve put together something approaching a reasonable layout for the paper, by the time Lucretia sets the press to print, Taako feels like death warmed over. He’s wishing he hadn’t gone for quite as much makeup because it feels cakey on his face and even Ren, who had only been wearing mascara, looks has raccoon-like black smudges around her eyes. Taako can’t imagine what he looks like right now. His coffee has _long_ since worn off, and he keeps alternating between feeling like maybe the world isn’t real and being hyper-focused, but—they’re done.

Lucretia stares at the press as it cranks out unfolded copies of the Starblaster, just watching it go, like she can’t quite believe the spells are working and everything is in place. “We did it,” she says, voice faint. She turns to grin at them, her hair a mess and clothes askew, then throws her arms around Lup, hugging her tight as Lup laughs and hugs her back. “We fucking _did it_!”

“We’ve still got to fold everything,” Taako points out from the other side of the table, safely out of range of the hugging, but he’s grinning too. “But _fuck_ yeah, of course we did it. You’ve got the dream team, Madam Editor.”

Lucretia lets go of Lup so she can collect the first stack of broadsheets. “If we all fold it’ll go fast. Barry can—” Lucretia pauses, and Taako turns to look at Barry, who’s passed out on the table, his glasses caught up in his hair.

“I think this probably means that whatever it is, Barry can’t,” Lup says, walking over to pluck the glasses from the top of his head. She folds them and carefully sets them down in the middle of the table. “Ango’s down for the count too.”

“At least Ango is a baby,” Taako says, looking at Angus, curled up in the armchair, sound asleep, where he’s been for the past hour or so. “He’s got an excuse. I’m sure we can figure out how to fold papers, Lucretia. We’ll be good.”

Lucretia is swaying in place ever so slightly and it takes her a moment to nod. “Yes. Right. You’re right,” she says, and then hands the broadsheets around the table to be folded. “Just, you know… in half.” She makes a vague motion with her hands.

Ren takes a few sheets and begins to fold. “This isn’t normal, right? Like when the Hammerheads aren’t dicks you don’t do this to yourselves?”

“It goes a lot faster when we don’t have to write, edit, do layout, and print the entire paper in one night, yes,” Lucretia promises. “Would you like to join?”

Ren pauses in her folding, glancing around the room. “Can I?” she asks. “I mean, I have to work so I don’t know if I can make it to every meeting, and I don’t have time to take an extra class, but can I just… be in the club?”

“Of course,” Lucretia says. “We could always use more people.”

“You’re not allowed to write advice,” Taako says. “That’s _my_ thing.”

“Advice is hard,” Magnus says, from where he’s carefully lining up the sides of his paper so he can fold it nicely. “Even when it’s about dogs. Trust me, leave it to Taako.”

“I don’t want to steal Taako’s column,” Ren promises.

“You know I enjoy your advice column, but I think the piece you and Angus did together was good,” Kravitz says, as he adds another paper to the pile in front of him. “I wish I’d been here in time to try one of your muffins.”

Taako smiles at Kravitz because he’s had _no_ sleep and has given up all hope of hiding his emotions. Kravitz pulled an all-nighter and wrote an article for the paper of a school he doesn’t attend just because Taako’s on it. It seems silly to be self-conscious now. “I’ll make some for you,” he says. “We can even break into the home ec room and have a secret underground bake off one night.”

“Sounds lovely,” Kravitz says. Taako isn’t sure if it’s because of the sleep deprivation or, like, feelings, but for a moment it’s like they’re the only ones in the room. Taako wants to kiss him. Taako wants to turn back time and kiss him the night Kravitz walked him back to school. He’s wasted so much time _not_ kissing him.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Lucretia says, shattering the momentary illusion of a privacy.

Taako turns towards her. She’s staring at the papers in front of her, horrified, and for a moment Taako thinks maybe they let some glaring typo escape them. 

“Oh my god, there’s a _spell_ for this,” Lucretia says, running a hand through her hair. “What am I _doing_?”

Lup slumps forward onto the table, muffling a laugh against her arm. “Fuck,” she says, looking up. “You’re as delirious as the rest of us. What’s the spell? Do you _remember_ it or just that it exists? Because we can keep folding.”

Lucretia shakes her head, reaching over to grab her wand. “I remember it,” she says. “Sit back, please.”

Lucretia waves her wand and the papers rapidly begin to fold themselves, first in half lengthwise, and then again, down the middle. They form neat piles on the table, in amongst the empty Davy Lamp cups and dirty dishes left from dinner.

It’s the most beautiful thing Taako’s ever seen. It means they’re really, truly _done_.

Almost done. There’s still distribution to think about.

Magnus rubs his eyes. “So… all we have to do is drop the papers off in the stands?” he asks. “Do we _have_ to do that now or can we sleep first?”

Taako’s team sleep. He gives Lucretia a hopeful look as she checks her watch.

“We could sleep,” she says. “Or we could wait twelve minutes and go to breakfast.”

A near-simultaneous groan makes its way through the room, waking Angus. Barry determinedly remains passed the fuck out.

“What happened?” Angus asks, blinking at them and rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. “Did we make it?”

“We made it,” Magnus promises. “Barely.”

“Please,” Taako says, still focused on Lucretia and the revelation that when you’re in a room with no windows sometimes time just sneaks up on you and kicks you in the teeth. “For the love of all things holy, Lucretia— _please_ tell me it’s not almost six in the morning.”

Lucretia looks down at her watch again. “It’s five forty-nine.”

“Fucking fuck.” Taako leans against Kravitz, propping his chin on Kravitz’s shoulder. “Hey,” he says. “Hey handsome, does your goddess take requests? Will she come and kill me? I would like to literally _die_ now.”

Kravitz laughs, low and soft, which could be because he likes Taako, but could also be because he’s minutes from keeling over too. “That’s not quite how she works.”

An empty paper coffee cup flies across the room, narrowly missing his head, and Taako turns to glare at Lup. “You two are adorable, but please stop,” she says. “I can’t deal with it right now. We should go to breakfast. We can at least get _fresh_ bad food if we go now. The eggs might not be as gross.”

“Ugh,” Taako says, wrinkling his nose. “I mean, I _guess_ we can.”

“I need coffee so bad.” Ren rubs her hands over her face and then pauses, slowly pulling them away. “Fuck, I was wearing makeup, wasn’t I?”

“It was already everywhere anyway,” Taako says. “I deeply regret wearing velvet yesterday.”

“Food.” Magnus lurches to his feet. “The cafeteria doesn’t do coffee, but I think they have tea?”

“Dirty leaf water,” Lucretia says, which is—surprising. Taako would have pegged her as a tea drinker. “Is _all_ the coffee gone?”

“Lup’s throwing cups at me. I think it’s gone,” Taako says, forcing himself off his stool. He’s so tired his eyes physically hurt and he just feels—gross. Like he really, really needs a shower and a nap, in that order. Life is pain. “I’ll fuck up some oolong, but right now I need coffee.”

“I could do a coffee run for everyone,” Kravitz says, glancing around the room. “The Davy Lamp opens at six.”

Taako stares at Kravitz and contemplates kissing him, right here, in front of everyone. His body actually, physically sways towards Kravitz and he has to hold himself back.

“Taako, I love him,” Lup says. “I _love_ him.”

“You sure you don’t mind?” Lucretia asks. “We don’t want to put you out.”

“I don’t mind,” Kravitz promises. “I think we could all use some caffeine to make it through the rest of the day.”

“Eat something first,” Ren says, pushing herself to her feet. “It doesn’t seem fair to send you off to get us coffee without feeding you. Everyone else up for it?”

“I _think_ I’m hungry? I can’t tell,” Lup says, after thinking it over for a moment. She pokes Barry in the side and he wakes with a start, almost falling off his stool as he jerks upright.

“I—what?” Barry blinks, squinting as he looks around the room. His hair is a mess and his sweater has left an imprint on his cheek. “Did I fall asleep? Where are my glasses?”

“You passed out so I stole them off your face,” Lup says. “Here.”

Barry turns towards her as Lup picks his glasses up off the table. She unfolds the arms and—carefully—places them back on Barry’s face, her fingers brushing against his cheek, through his hair. Barry smiles at her, obviously, _obviously_ smitten, and Lup smiles back.

“Looking good, babe,” she says, voice soft, her touch lingering.

Barry reaches up and touches Lup’s hand. “Thanks,” he says. “I, um, morning.”

Lup laughs, and when she lowers her hand Barry’s comes with it, their fingers tangled together. “Morning.”

“Do you think Julia is awake yet?” Magnus asks the room, after a moment of staring at Lup and Barry—to be fair, everyone is staring at Lup and Barry, still holding hands, not letting go.

Taako rolls his eyes and gets to his feet. “Only one way to find out, big guy. Come on. I want toast and I want eggs and then I want Kravitz to bring me a coffee like the knight in shining armour he is.”

*

In the cafeteria, people keep giving their table weird looks. It’s Thursday morning and none of them are in uniform—not to mention Kravitz’s continued presence. He’s between Taako and Ren, picking food off their plates, half-heartedly nibbling on toast and looking like he wouldn’t mind a nap before he goes to get them all coffee.

Taako reaches for a piece of bacon and then pauses as a very important thing occurs to him. “Shit,” he says. “I don’t _have_ Thursday morning classes.”

“Oh fuck you, Taako,” Ren says, groaning as she slumps over her tray. “Brag about it some more, why don’t you?”

Lup starts giggling and then can’t stop, leaning heavily against Barry, who looks entirely willing and able to support her through her fit. “Shit,” Lup says. “Fuck. I love you, Ren. I love everyone.” She lets out a sigh, resting her head on Barry’s shoulder. “Everyone except Taako because yeah, Taako—fuck you.”

“Hey.” Taako points his bacon at Lup. “If you worked a little harder _you_ could get kicked out of classes and get Tuesday and Thursday mornings off too.”

Kravitz turns to him, confused. “You got kicked out of a class?”

“It’s a long story,” Taako says, shrugging. “It ends with me joining the newspaper. I’ll tell you when we’re both more awake, but it means I’m free to come pick up the coffee for everyone else with you like the saint I am. Then how would you feel about taking a nap in my room, bubelah? We can share my—”

“Taako, we need to talk.”

Taako pauses and turns. Principal Davenport is standing behind him, flanked by Leon. He’d kind of hoped it would take longer for this to catch up with him. Long enough for him to take a nap first. Enjoy the time with Kravitz. The small victory of getting The Starblaster done on time. It was bound to catch up with him at some point.

“Yeah,” he says. “I figured you would.”

Kravitz glances at the teachers, then at Taako, concerned. “What’s going on?”

There’s no real point in denying it. The smug look on Leon’s face says that he already knows everything. “I _may_ have hit the Hammerheads with Magic Missile last night when they burned our articles,” he says. “Worth it.”

Lup, Ren, and Angus are the only ones who seem to grasp the significance of what’s happening here. Taako, in his sleep deprived state, can’t bring himself to care too much. He knew it was coming and he’s already pretty sure he knows how this is going to play out.

It’s still all worth it.

“Sorry, Krav,” Taako says, giving him a tight smile. “Looks like I won’t be able to come on the coffee run.”

“Let’s take this to my office,” Davenport says, and Taako stands to follow him.

“Lucretia, what _happened_?” Lup asks, and the table erupts into questions behind them as Taako starts the long walk to the principal’s office.

Davenport waits until they’re out of cafeteria to say anything more. Taako feels surrounded. He _is_ surrounded. Leon walks behind him with Davenport leading the way down the hall. Like he’s an unruly prisoner on his way to the execution chamber.

Maybe that’s not too far off, as a metaphor.

“This is all a bit much, don’t you think?” Taako asks, after a moment of walking in silence. “I mean, I get that you’re not my _biggest_ fans, but do I really need the an escort for a walk down the hall?”

“Taako, now is not the time.” There’s a warning in Davenport’s voice, an edge to his tone that says Taako better stop now or he’ll regret it.

Taako’s been in trouble a lot, but he’s never heard Davenport sound like that before. He stops talking.

When they reach the office, Merle’s waiting, looking more serious than Taako’s ever seen him before. In his chest, his heart sinks. This isn’t good. This feels like the final nail in the coffin. The cleric waiting to do last rites.

“Dav,” Merle says. “We should talk about this.”

“I think you’ve done enough talking, don’t you?” Leon asks. “Taako’s been given plenty of chances to change his behaviour. No one can argue that he hasn’t been treated fairly.”

Taako snorts, looking down at Leon. “I’m right here, my man. You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not,” he says. “And, uh, _yeah_ —pretty sure this whole thing is a giant fucking set up because _you_ don’t like it when your students are smarter than you.”

Leon’s eyes narrow as he glares up at Taako. “Now isn’t the time to disrespect your teachers.”

“You’re not my teacher, remember? You won’t let me in your class.”

“Taako, enough,” Davenport says. “Leon, you too. I’m going to speak with Taako in my office. _Privately_. If you’d like to stay, you can wait outside.” He gestures for Taako to proceed him through the open office door.

Taako shoots Leon one last dirty look, then walks into the office. It feels like déjà vu. It’s only been a few weeks since he was last here, since he got drafted onto The Starblaster. He has a feeling today isn’t going to go as well. 

“This isn’t _fair_ ,” he says. “Leon set me up. He told the Hammerheads I was on thin ice, and—did Jenkins even tell you about what happened with them and Angus the other day?”

“Taako, please.” Davenport climbs into his chair and runs a hand over his mustache.

Taako presses his lips together, trying not to glare. He _hates_ this. He hates feeling powerless.

Davenport sighs. “I really thought you were making progress. You’ve made so many changes recently. You’re participating in the newspaper and doing so well there—thriving, as far as I can tell. You’ve made more friends. I thought you’d really turned things around.”

“This is all—”

“Quiet.” There’s an edge to Davenport’s tone, a command.

Taako shuts up again.

“This is a position no educator wants to be in. Especially not with such a promising young student, but with your behavioural record and the strict rules we have about using magic against other students… you haven’t left me with a choice here, Taako.”

“You’ve always got a choice,” Taako says. “This is a _set up_. Can’t you see that? You’ve got these shitty fucking teachers who don’t like me and—yeah, okay. Some of that’s on me. I know I’m an asshole, but I’m a student and they’re adults. They’re not supposed to _lash out_ at me. And the Hammerheads are bullies. They’ve _always_ been bullies and this school never does anything about it. They’re too busy taking money from Maarvey’s dad to reprimand his shitty kid. That’s how the world ends up fucked, you know. Nobody’s ever willing to show rich kids that there are consequences for their actions.”

“I agree with you,” Davenport says, which is a surprise. “But Taako, I can only address the issues that get raised with me. I need you and the other students to report things instead of taking matters into your own hands if I’m going to do anything about the issues we have in this school.”

“Well, shit, Princi’port. Too bad you’re about to expel me. If only I’d known _telling_ someone would fix all my problems,” Taako says, voice dripping with disdain because _fuck that_. He’s not going to sit here and get lectured about how Davenport was just waiting for someone to report the bullying to step in and stop it. “That’s bullshit.”

“Taako.”

“You’re expelling me anyway. Why should I watch my language?” Taako demands. “What’s the fucking point?”

Davenport opens a file on his desk. “Maarvey Edgington has accused you of using Magic Missile against him and his two friends outside the boy’s dorms last night,” he says. “He’s _also_ accused you and your sister of stealing their jackets earlier this year.”

Taako sneers at that. Typical. Maarvey can dish out bullying, but he can’t take it. “If by that you mean they lost them in a bet, then sure. We took them. The Hammerheads knew what they were getting into though. They agreed to it.”

Davenport gives him an unimpressed look and Taako rolls his eyes. “Fuck, fine. I’ll give him back his stupid jacket.”

“Good,” Davenport says. “I’ll put that down as a point in your favour, but Taako—I have to be frank with you. Things don’t look good. Because you’re one of our scholarship students, because of your unique situation, and because I do see how hard you’ve been trying, I’m going to put your case before the Board and tell them I think you should be allowed to stay, but I don’t want to make you any promises I can’t keep.”

It’s more than Taako expected, honestly. Probably more than he deserves after the way he snapped at Davenport. “Do I get to go to classes in the meantime?”

Davenport sighs. “I don’t think that would be advisable. We’ll keep it to a suspension for now. You can report to—”

He’s cut off by a knock at the door.

Taako glances back at it, then at Davenport, who’s frowning. There’s another, more urgent knock, and the faint sound of someone protesting outside.

Davenport looks at the ceiling like he’s praying for divine intervention, then raises his voice. “Come in!”

The door swings open and standing there, wearing the same determined expression that powered her through writing and editing all night, a copy of The Starblaster tucked under her arm and her backpack hooked over her shoulder, is Lucretia. “Principal Davenport,” she says. “We need to talk.”

Davenport rubs a hand over his face. “Lucretia, I’m glad you and Taako are friends, but there’s really nothing—”

“Taako didn’t cast Magic Missile on the Hammerheads. I did.” Lucretia pulls the paper from under her arm and places it down on Davenport’s desk. “I wrote about the confrontation for today’s frontpage. I didn’t mention the spell in my article, but everything else is there. The Hammerheads attacked _me_ first. Taako only tried to defuse the situation. I didn’t realize they thought he cast the spell.”

Davenport glances down, briefly, at the newspaper on his desk, and then up at Lucretia. It’s clear he doesn’t believe a word of what she’s saying. And why should he? It’s a lie. Taako’s threatened to use Magic Missile on the Hammerheads before. He’s a known problem student. Lucretia’s quiet, hard working, and—most of the time—shy.

Taako and Lucretia are only just _barely_ friends, but here she is, standing up for him, willing to take the _fall_ for him and accept his punishment.

Lucretia, for all her faults, is a better person than Taako.

Maybe this will work. Maybe it won’t. Maybe Taako’s about to be expelled, maybe just suspended. And maybe, on the off chance he _isn’t_ kicked out of school, all this means he won’t be a good candidate for the Institute anymore. 

If he’s honest with himself, maybe that was never his dream. He loves Lup, and Lup’s going to be great there, but Taako and Lup are different people. They’re allowed to want different things. The things they want can change.

Right now, Taako wants to stay. He wants to keep writing his stupid advice column for Lucretia’s paper. He wants to go to Lup’s field hockey games and convince Barry to use his money to buy them fancy snacks. He wants to tease Magnus about Julia and visit Ren at The Davy Lamp and teach Angus magic. He wants to ask Kravitz out on a date.

Taako wants to fight back against the unfair system that keeps people like Maarvey and Jerree and Little Jerry in school even when they bully other kids, but tries to kick Taako out for standing up for himself and his friends.

“Taako,” Davenport says. “Is this true?”

“Oh yeah,” Taako says, grinning at Lucretia. “Definitely completely true.”

Davenport makes a doubtful sound, glancing from Taako to Lucretia. “Completely true,” he repeated. “You both stand by this?”

“Absolutely,” Lucretia says. “I’m here to accept whatever punishment you think is fair, Principal Davenport. I overreacted with that spell. They’d just set all our articles on fire and I was feeling very distraught.”

Davenport raises an eyebrow. “You’ve got an exemplary record, Lucretia,” he says. “I’m not going to suspend you over a first offense. Especially when I know how much the paper means to you. After school detention as a first warning.”

“Thank you, sir,” Lucretia says.

“Now, this.” Davenport points to the front page of the paper and its headline. Now that Taako’s seeing it outside of the context of the office, “HAMMERHEADS BITE! STARBLASTER FIGHTS” does look pretty dramatic. “Have you got proof to back up these accusations?”

Lucretia nods, reaching into her bag and pulling out the remains of the burned articles. “Here are what’s left of the articles from our original draft,” she says, placing them on Davenport’s desk as well. “We would have come to tell someone this morning, but you beat us to it. It was important to us to get an issue out in time, even if it wasn’t the one we had planned. We care about our work. We care about the paper.”

“I know how much you care about the paper,” Davenport says. “Still, the dorm supervisors—”

There’s another knock on the door, louder this time, and Davenport just looks at it, exasperated. “Who is it this time?”

The door opens, and Maarvey’s standing there, a copy of The Starblaster in hand. “This is libel!” he says, brandishing it at everyone in the room. “You gotta make them destroy all the issues.”

Davenport’s gaze slowly turns to the pile of singed paper on his desk.

“Well—well, what about the rest of this?” Maarvey demands. “The pushing around the kid stuff. And cornering people in the halls. Where’s the proof of _that_?”

“Little Jerry got punished for picking on Angus,” Taako says. “That’s on record for sure.”

“You stole my jacket!” Maarvey says, pointing an accusing finger at Taako. “You used magic against us!”

Taako stands up and shrugs off the lilac leather jacket he’s wearing, tossing it to Maarvey. “Here you go, thug. Jacket returned.”

Maarvey catches the jacket and holds it to his chest, red-faced and angry. He looks at Davenport. “You’ve _gotta_ expel him. He’s supposed to be on thin ice. Leon said—” Maarvey stops talking, abruptly, like even _he_ realizes what he’s just admitted.

“I think you and I need to have a chat, Mr. Edgington,” Davenport says. “Take a seat outside my office. I’ll be right with you.”

Maarvey hesitates. Leon and Merle are peering in the open office door.

“Now,” Davenport says, and Maarvey scampers out, pushing past Leon so he can take a seat.

Davenport looks like he could use one of Merle’s beers right about now. Whatever his future holds, Taako’s _definitely_ not going into education.

“I’ll have to deal with that in a moment,” Davenport says. “In the meantime—Lucretia, detention after school for the next month. I think we’re also going to have to address the matter of The Starblaster.” Davenport looks like it physically pains him to say the name of the paper. “With the paper’s increase in popularity and the problems that’s apparently causing amongst the student population, I think it’s time we introduced some more supervision to the club.”

“You can’t _censor_ us,” Lucretia says, aghast. “Principal Davenport, that’s—”

“I’m not going to take the paper on myself,” Davenport says, cutting her off. “And I don’t expect your supervisor to censor anything, but I _do_ think your club could use the additional oversight so issues like this don’t happen again. A teacher, perhaps.”

“Well, hell. I’ll do it,” Merle says, from the doorway. “I don’t have a background in the stuff, but it sounds interesting. Why not?”

Taako can’t think of a teacher _less_ likely to censor anything they want to say than Merle. Lucretia looks apprehensive, but Taako nods. “Yeah,” he says. “Come on, Lucretia. Merle’ll be perfect for it.”

“Well… yes, okay. We’ll take Merle,” she says, looking back at Davenport.

Davenport gives her an amused look. “I’m glad you’re amenable because it’s not really your decision to make.”

“We’ll schedule the meetings around your detentions for the next few weeks,” Merle says. “Make sure you don’t miss out on anything.”

“I’m glad we could get this settled,” Davenport says. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another _delightful_ conversation to have this morning.” He raises his voice. “Maarvey, Leon—come in. We need to talk.”

Princi’port’s going to have a long day, but Taako’s has suddenly, inexplicably taken a turn for the better. He follows Lucretia out of Davenport’s office, feeling like maybe this whole morning has been a weird fever dream, and looks down when Merle touches his arm.

He’s holding out a Snickers.

“It’s good to see the two of you getting along,” Merle says, smiling up at Taako like the knowing bastard he is. He looks at Lucretia and winks. “Not so frustrating when you communicate a little more clearly?”

“Shut up, Merle,” Taako says, taking the Snickers. “And, you know, thanks.”

“No problem, kid. I have a feeling the The Starblaster’s going to be a fun club to supervise.”

It’s not what Taako’s thanking him for, but Merle probably knows that.

“Your friends are outside,” Merle adds. “I think they thought Dav would feel a little more generous if he didn’t have to deal with a stampede of supporters.”

Taako looks up and yes, waiting outside the glass walls of the office admin area is—everyone, pretty much. The whole Starblaster crew and Ren and Kravitz, all looking worried and hopeful, except for Lup, who also looks kind of annoyed. He shoots them a quick thumbs up and Magnus lets out a whoop of triumph, punching a fist into the air.

Lucretia laughs and glances back at Taako. “You’ll have to give me tips for detention. I’ve never had one before.”

“No matter what Magnus says, do _not_ punch anyone,” Taako says. “Just bring homework to do. You’ll be fine.” He makes a shooing motion with his hand. “I need to talk to Merle.”

Lucretia leaves the office and is scooped off her feet by Magnus, who’s apparently taking Taako not being expelled as a personal victory.

Taako unwraps his Snickers and looks down at Merle. “I’ve been thinking about what you said,” he says. “About choices and what defines me.”

“Yeah?” Merle leans against the administration desk. “Come to any conclusions?”

“The choice thing is okay. They're important,” Taako says. “But I’m going to have to call bullshit on the being _defined_ thing. I’m Taako. I’m multidimensional as fuck and if anyone thinks they can pin me down, they’ve got another thing coming. I can be creative and stubborn and frustrating all at once. Besides, people change—who they are, what they want. Things change.”

It’s one of the few things Taako knows to be true. It's deeply ingrained in who he is as a person—the world is always changing and there's no point trying to stop it. A part of Taako _craves_ that change, craves better teachers, better food—a better life. He aches for change with a longing that feels like a physical thing, sitting heavy in the pit of his stomach. 

He aches for change, but he was so sure he knew exactly how it would happen and what it would look like that he’d almost missed it. He was so caught up in resisting the possibility of a future that looked different from the one he and Lup had planned—the one where they become baller wizards together—that he almost let himself go stagnant.

It’s not Taako and Lup against the world anymore. Things have changed. _They’ve_ changed, because people do—people are shaped by the connections they form and the things they care about and the choices they make.

Taako can choose to be hard and brittle. He can choose to be like ice, like stone—like a spiked wall, unyielding. He can choose to resist any possibility of compromise or friendship or connection, to resist the possibility of _change_.

He can choose that, and set himself up to break, or he can choose to soften. He can choose to become something—some _one_ —new, some other version of himself. Still Taako, but different.

Taako thinks about limestone valleys, how water shapes them, carving deep canyons into soft stone, transforming them into something monumental, bigger and grander than they were before, turning them into something magnificent.

Taako is nothing if not magnificent.

Taako has friends—people who care about him, who he cares about—people who have worn him down, etching their presence into his life like a river through bedrock. He has things he cares about now and it’s kind of a fucking nightmare, but it’s also—better.

This is better.

Merle smiles as Taako takes a bite of his Snickers. “I like that,” he says. “Never said I knew everything, kid. If I did, life would be pretty boring.”

Taako swallows the chocolate in his mouth and snorts. “You definitely don’t know how to pick out snacks. This is _way_ better than the granola bars”

“You live and you learn.” Merle gestures to crowd outside the office. “Go on. They’re waiting.”

Taako steps out of the office and Lup descends on him immediately, hitting his arm and then pulling him into a tight hug. Magnus joins in a moment later, attempting to smother them both. 

“All right, okay! I know we’re all sleep deprived and emotional right now, but this is ridiculous,” Taako protests, making a show of rolling his eyes even as he hugs Lup back just as tight.

Magnus releases them and laughs. “We’re just glad you didn’t get expelled.”

“Yeah, me too,” Taako says. When Lup steps back he looks at Lucretia. “Thanks.”

“It’s my job as editor to protect my reporters when they face consequences,” Lucretia says, and then smiles. “And that’s what friends are for, right? You’re welcome.”

Angus throws himself at Taako and hugs him tight around his waist. Taako seizes up for a moment, as Angus presses his face against Taako's stomach and _clings_ like he thinks Taako's about to be wrenched away from him, then tentatively returns the hug, rubbing Angus's back. “You good, pumpkin?”

“I’m just—I was so worried,” Angus says, looking up at Taako. There are tears in the corners of his eyes and that’s—a lot, for Taako. “I don’t want you to _go_.”

“Hey, Taako’s not going anywhere,” Taako says, giving Angus's back an awkward pat and looking around at the rest of them for help. “Could someone—?”

“Hey, bud. Let’s let Taako have some breathing room, okay?” Barry says, stepping forward and helping Taako pry Angus off. He offers Taako a smile. “Glad you’re sticking with us.”

“Yeah, congrats on not getting kicked out of school,” Ren says, and nudges Kravitz’s shoulder, bumping him forward a pace. “Right, Krav?”

Kravitz looks a little flustered, being pushed in front of Taako with all of Taako’s friends—still _pretty much_ strangers—surrounding them, but he nods and smiles wide enough to show off his braces. “I’m _very_ glad you won’t be going anywhere anytime soon,” he says. “I’d miss you.”

Taako can’t believe he’s wasted so much time. Kravitz looks so shy and happy, like he can’t think of anywhere he’d rather be than the hallway of a pretentious boarding school he doesn’t go to, still in his work clothes from the day before, his dreads half unraveled from the tidy bun he had them in. Kravitz's eyes are red-rimmed from the lack of sleep that Taako feels too, viscerally, but he still offered to go to The Davy Lamp and get them all coffee. To bring drinks to people he barely knows, again, because he likes Taako. This is _ridiculous_.

Taako surges forward and kisses him. Their noses bump together and his bottom lip catches—just for a moment—on the metal brackets of Kravitz’s braces. Kravitz exhales a soft, startled sound into the kiss, but then his hands are cupping Taako’s jaw and their mouths find the right angle, no awkward clashing of teeth or knocking of foreheads. Kravitz's lips are soft and his breath is hot and it’s _so nice_. 

Taako fists his hands in Kravitz’s shirt and closes his eyes, sinking into this feeling, into the pleased giddiness that pools hot in his gut and makes him want more of this. More of Kravitz.

Magnus wolf whistles and Taako breaks the kiss, pulling back so he can glare at him over Kravitz’s shoulder, briefly, before focusing on Kravitz again. Kravitz is blushing and Taako's face is hot with embarrassment too. If he’d had _any_ sleep, he probably wouldn’t have done that.

Kravitz’s hands are still cupping his face, his thumb brushing over Taako’s cheekbone. Taako really, really doesn't care that all his friends and probably his counselor just saw their first kiss. Worth it.

“So, uh. I’m not saying we’re going to go to prom together or whatever, but, uh, do you… want to go out some time?” Taako asks, after a beat. “Because that’s—I’d be good. With that.”

Lup is never going to stop making fun of him for this.

Kravitz smiles like Taako just offered him the sun. Like he did something a lot more special than just ask him out, finally. “I’d love to,” Kravitz says, and presses a kiss to Taako’s forehead.

Taako laughs and looks down at the buttons on Kravitz’s shirt, easing his grip on it, just a little. “I mean, _yeah_ ,” he says. “Who wouldn’t want to get in on this? Taako's a fucking catch.”

“Oh my god, Taako, you _loser_ ,” Lup says. “That was cute and then you had to go and be you about it.”

Taako hooks an arm around Kravitz’s waist and fits himself against his side. “You're just jealous I kissed my man before you did,” he says, and gives Barry a pointed, obvious look.

Barry goes red, because of course he does, but he and Lup look at each other and their eyes linger the same way their hands did earlier, in the newspaper office. Lup smiles. "We've got time."

There’s a lot up in the air still. Taako may not be at risk of immediate expulsion, but he’s teetering on the edge. He’s going to have to be on his best behaviour from now on. He still has _no_ idea what he wants to do next year—maybe it’s the Institute, maybe it’s culinary school, maybe it’s taking some time off to decide.

But that’s fine. Taako can focus on this for now—on the weird people who’ve fixed on to him, barnacle-like, as he makes his way through the world—and he can enjoy it. He can take pleasure in watching people read today’s issue of The Starblaster, in seeing them _really_ get what assholes the Hammerheads are. He can go on dates and kiss his maybe-boyfriend. Life’s long, and Taako’s young, and he doesn’t _have_ to have everything figured out.

The world is a verb, always changing, and when he needs to, Taako can change with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the strongest choice you can make is having the audacity to be happy, to care, to _choose joy_. This, for me, was one of the central themes of Bury the Lead. Taako spends this fic learning how to care and forming relationships with other people. One of the things I loved most about TAZ, one of the things that makes me go back and relisten to it, is its emphasis on hope and love and family and joy—on moving through darkness and fighting to find light on the other side. 
> 
> In writing this fic, I wanted to make something that reflected those feelings, at least a little. I wanted to write something that made people _happy_. I hope I was at least partially successful in this. Thank you all so, so much for reading.
> 
> Thank you especially to terezis, who way back in September commented on my very first fic saying she liked high school AUs and that, yes, I should write the one I was contemplating. I, uh, did. A special shout out to foxy-alien, too, who drew fanart for this fic _before it was published_ and whose birthday was yesterday! Happy belated, my dude!
> 
> I also want to take the time here to point you towards this adorable picture of [the group hug at the field hockey game](https://sapphicshrimp.tumblr.com/post/169334208101/asdfghj-i-read-about-200-words-into-the-new) last chapter by sapphicshrimp over on tumblr! Please like and reblog their art.
> 
> Edit: ALSO! After this chapter came out hannahlady drew [the kiss between taako and kravitz, complete with background spectators](http://hannahlady.tumblr.com/post/169532742228/sorry-for-the-sketchiness-but-i-had-to-get-this) and it's amazing. Magnus gives me _life_. Again, please like and reblog!
> 
> As always, I’m on tumblr [@marywhal](http://marywhal.tumblr.com). Please come and say hello. I really appreciate talking with you all and I’m always up for you to drop into my ask box! I'm sure, too, I'll be talking about my next longfic over there shortly (a post-s&s reaper squad adventure). I also have a prom-centric oneshot sequel to Bury the Lead planned.
> 
> If you read and enjoyed this fic, please leave a kudos and a comment! They mean a lot to me.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos fuel me through the writing of fics like these. They're greatly appreciated!
> 
> Come say hi to me on tumblr, where I'm [@marywhal](http://marywhal.tumblr.com)


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